timeless

unknown for so long i forget what my face looks like
i shatter mirrors with my false teeth and orange berry mouthwash
drinking coffee and talking to myself as i talk a piss in the commode
when will sorrow defend honor? when will the righteous be commemorated by the quantum spectrum of timeless leaps
we sit waiting for the time to come when the asteroid hits the bungalow of a swanky LA director
the man inside sells it for 16 million to the highest bidder and then the asteroid turns into gold
theirs nothing left except empty money and clock ticking madness of what was once a unicorn work shed door you had to clean up to get a check that bounces anyways
the door didn't open itself, the man opened it, he had a mustache and lost wages
he was upset that his children weren't going to be fed for the next week and i directed him to a place where groceries were affordable
farmers working hard to create a sustainable crop, urban, make it
pylons on the side walk, they must be making a movie out there in space somewhere where i can direct in the moments of the lunar eclipse and cut scene make it look like the rocket was shot in the moon's eye, a trip and the rich take out their checkbooks
i do not wish for art to form, only to flow in essence
i want to see television in the night time, when the signal is off and it's just a blank screen in an abysmal, unkempt den of a basement
back to the literature, Sartre is looking at the light in Camus's window
Mathieu needs to get Marcelle an abortion but the old lady doesn't trust Mathieu so Marcelle has to go with him
what happens next is not known by me, i have to keep reading to understand my collection of ladies underwear and eye shadow
not for me, but for the other, another, the other
he whispers, like they all do, and the next day it's fine when the looking glass breaks and you see your shattered existence in a nutshell flowing down the steps of your chic Broadway condominium
the door is open, just walk right in, the people there are kind and they serve you conversation mixed with sangria
water flows through the taps of the men's washroom and there are no men in the room except for a black gentleman who is offering a spray of cologne
i give him 5 dollars and he sprays a little cologne on me
thank you i say and he nods in understanding
these moments in my mind seem endless and i forgot where i first began
i guess it was the start, or the end, and the endless opposite start of the futon bed in the darkness of sinful Armageddon that will plague the poster boy for the next fashion show headliner
Armani kisses to his audience at the end of the run way and is snapped in pictures as he leaves into the limo of cocaine and wild child, newly printed, one of a kind, models, beautiful women and men
they are not one of us, for we don't know they're struggle or their delicate genes
all i do is type this message i have in my mind and go from there because the bastards might think i'm viva loco without any words to say except nodding and smiling as they snort the cocaine and i look away
they offer but i say no and it's understood
let's take a different path per se
just say i do snort
would my life be better or worse for explaining myself in times of gladiators and unwrung elle facelifts
haunting me at my chamber door
knock knock knock
i twitch and fall from exhaustion
i make a drink before that and spill it everywhere
no more fun here, just buffalo breaded with carrots and celery on the side
my addiction calls me, i'm not answering the phone
i have no phone, i have nothing, i have leisure and the event that something may happen if i'm a good little boy for christmas
ho ho ho, the bells used to ring
and i have no date for New Years Eve

i'll be kissing the floor when they count down the clock

two minute cardio

The red diamond looks into my eye
i am the diamond eyed poor boy lost kid
never been so scared before
counting the sheep in my sleep
drooling from the mouth like a wry dog
can't believe this is happening and it's so soon
the quartet is on cue
the gambler opens up, the only deuce in the deck
he's going to be a doctor soon, they say
or maybe just another player in this game of ours
this world spinning ten forth and forth right
i can't believe my hands are doing this
making words out of air, is it the mind or the extension of man
or both, one with the other, or just one and the other watching
the other is always watching
better be on your best behaviour
cause he ain't swinging Singapore slings in my direction
take a drag of a cigarette and he nods
this is what he wants, for he will get it eventually
being in the world is tough enough as it is
and the other watches me create

where it all belongs

ouchie wow wow wow

i gonna be back to the beats

find myself

look til my eyes bleed venus starshow

gotta find her so bad

i need some lovin'

i gotta find my baby

into sometime find her give her some love

lordy i say you gotta help me

i got to get back

where it all belongs

sitting at the tombstone blues

find out what's right and wrong

living the fast life

no thin strips

all adrenaline

come back to me baby

i give you more of that lovin

i gotta find her lordy

in the morning time, until the dusk strikes near

i just gotta find my baby

brut man

what honor do you have left after kin has fallen?
brut man, simple enough to let the cattle follow
can there be nothing said for a man who relishes the crops
a man who tends to the bale of cotton and the corn
this is my father
my mother rapidly follows
she brings the bread, he brings the first born
in repetition, day in and day out doing the same activity
we liberate through the streets of anarchy
for there is no joke in a crumbling capital of economy
idiots at bay for they believe in what is above us
our spirit, it is real, and there are no longer no more idiots
only the spirit guides us now, and then forever

catered cigarette

I inhale the smoke, the smoke inhales me
the cigarette flickers in my hand, and then into my palm
the sensation is quivering, unjust, foul play
i can't sense a minute of the self righteous day
the mothball hides in the closet
hoping one day it will be found among the fur dress clothes and jackets
it is a quiet mothball, then there's nothing left
trying time to find hope in time of lesser causality
what causes this emotion?
how come we never faced it before in our own time
sitting down the stairs of 5th avenue, the man asks for the cigarette
i don't have any, i lie, for a catered smoke is hard to find
remember the time you don't remember anyways
oi, the punks and the droogs at your doorstep ready to play
iron in our blood, flowing through our veigns
the monument falls over face first, fuck stalin
the fear has overcome me, for i am not scared anymore
too many the's not enough if's
my lisping foul mouth unwell to be said
have i donkey'd out of reality?
where is the goal and what do we achieve in this moment
just smoke says the teevee i cannot watch anymore
there are whispers in my door shed for without it we are unkind and not merry
back to inhaling the cigarette
the smoke is still inhaled, the smoke still inhales me

thoughts

Another dreary day at the den. It's cold as hell and I've taken a sobriety oath for the next 48 hours. Nothing will warm me up unless is spiked eggnog and even then i can't get my hands on that. So i tend to my pen and decide to try to understand that bastard Trump in a nutshell. Trump is as if Nixon took high speed Valium to conjure up his make belief, ego maniacal plans. He's just leaving bread crumbs for the next poor bastard who takes office. Hell, he could go two terms if we let him. And America is beginning to a lot of interesting nihilist actions that are sliding. There's no room for editing the man, he just goes straight to the media itself. No press release, just wake up and twitter is a campaign i would have loved to have followed if i was a fellow jet set monger, but i could come up with the funds in time. That bastard horse only ran thus fast. Now I'm fiending for drink and a heads or tails competition with the fireplace a la den. I hope the son of a bitch coin is tails. If not, then we'll move on to Russian roulette, which Trump is slowly looking down the barrel of. Unfortunately, Putin likes to play with a fully loaded .45.

excerpt from Branches

"Listen up class, today is the journey of a lifetime. You will find all your needed gadgets in cage 390 and you will find the dossier in the left side of the mailbox. It's homework so study. Remember that headquarters is every single salon in the city. They will help you guide your path to insurance just in case you need to misdirect other spies. We are not spies, we are revolutionaries, don't you forget that. It's about the benefit of all, so clean up and read the news. Each mission will be in the death notices under Escobar and Wilson, the first the words of each sentence will give you a description of the next locale you will need to progress. If you get tagged, revealed or honey potted, i don't know you and this organization expects you to commit yourself over to law enforcement so you can PI with them. Otherwise, you are dead in the water. Above all, you are ghosts for the federation, good luck and god bless your souls," the man on the big screen told us, a group of 7 rejects, closely knotted together at someone else's expense.

philosophy

Existentially we believe in three things. Our body, our soul and our spirit. Our body is a harbinger to stay well in shape to notice the signs-out-in-society. A keen eye will know the sign in nature when travelling either outside or a dense environment. I find personally that the signs are in my home, when the sun peaks through the clouds and a shadow appears that make sense. I suppose our cogito acknowledges the signifier and thus the sign. The sign can mean different things for those who interpret it visually at the same time. The sign means something, we must find what it means. The sign, no doubt, represents the Truth. Something we can believe in that is almighty and, from a religious point of view, never obtrusive or demanding.

Our soul is something we garner in our consciousness. We interact with one another verbally, saying words and pronouncing gestures to those around you and somewhat in the immediate vicinity. Our soul can make the signs more noticeable, but there is room for error in the judgement. Soul is our charisma, what we physically show and act towards and in-the-world.

The Spirit is another form of phenomenology. You hear what is meant to be heard, not what is actually being said. Leaving information in the air, so to speak. In my opinion, a strong spirit is one that is well read and observant and allow themselves to be thrown into the world when a certain time has occurred.

redman

The three versus each other in a battle for common decency. Sword and chainmail. Halbreds and katanas. You'd expect bloodshed, but there was very minimal. The men fought til there were two left. The third left limping into the shaman shed. Bang wang bang, the men inserted both their katanas into each other and twisted heavily.

The three men versus til the honorable survives. He is the Red man.

bookmark

gin drunk marie was at the peak of her sexual prowess
she knew she loved it, the gin, the men, the passionate nights without borders
it was 1930 and the only way to express yourself was through emotional conversation
there were no video games
only conversations at the cafe, the remarkable ambiance of the streets
where a man can drink a bottle or two of white wine and wander the crosswalks aimlessly
with no boundaries. People necking in the alley way with half a hand up her skirt. I am the Marquis. These words come from a vocabulary not quite as delicate as yours. I speak up, not down, and i fight with the Sartre's and the Camus's and Poulet.
I am trapped in a cell, all I'm allowed to do is write. It's strict policy. On every telemarketing wall.
Who will make more calls, who will make more profit, who will get the bonus, whose working for the CEO who stomps his suede shoes over the copy i just made. There's no coffee and I'm sent away. I didn't care. Just another bookmark for the needy. 

hullo

speaking out of story, I just would like to address television viewing as well as itself as a whole form of medium. Flow. What is flow? It challenges both space and time. We hear or see flow as occurring consistently when listening to the radio, or the television, flow is the constant movement of visual learning. From my studies I have realized that while a television program is on and you are in another room, the message may be geared towards your psyche and ideology by the airwaves. These misjudgment by the listener leads to factual information by the viewer to subconsciously try and gear them into propaganda paid for the advertisement to deem the content as appealing to them more so in another than by the visual distraction of the television programming itself. The real message is usually verbally spoken near the end of the ad and is spoken very fast.

lift leg lucy

Lift leg lucy

sat on a deucey 

eating her porridge and milk

along came a spider

who limped right beside her

and vomited junk in the trunk

she bled from the waist

her body a waste

but her soul was too strong to give up

she left town one morning

to happiness gloating

i'm free, now leave me alone

the bus driver said

with a tulip in his head

your baggage is too much for this ride

so lucy walked on

she wasn't going to stop far

her home had shining lights in autumn

it took her not too long to get to her home

ooolala LA bound in the heat

made a desert weep

so thats what happened to lift leg lucy

she was lucky and mild, no time for a child

until one day the right one she meets

hockey

To the nights watching the game in the den with the famjam
to yelling at the big screen with you friends
to the smile and the frown
the sorrow
the clenched jaw and the dash of tear drop
then the red light hits and all goes to mayhem

beer everywhere
pop and chips in the air
hugs and kisses
rose petals and white orchids

this we can do

this is CANadian hockey
this is Canada

sit ubu sit, good dog

I called her ma'am
she sat near at the back of the bus
minding her own hair and makeup
this was the city bus
actor's transportation
it was magnificent
surrounded every night by actors of the sort
the inner ear lusting for more
i can hear but cannot be seen
seen but cannot be heard
we morph into the wall
transform into the seat
ain't this what living is about
jack may be back
and he's bringing the whole ship with him

at least

at least people are reading pulp novels again

Believe in Hamilton

the press

Just imagine a kid lost his job
all he did was write and write never thinking very far
so he read and he wrote and he knew what was right
because he read to speak to you
so cleverly in the night
something aghast, something never seen before
was working hard as the bills hit the floor
no friends in sight, all marry or born
i disappear, 5 years, quacking the felt
but he stayed calm for his writing with no followers indeed
a monster from Jupiter is all i ever see
the press, they want a piece, turn it into a scandal
only baby ruth can handle the mantle

Hallmark

I just wanted to let you know that i called you first instead of sending you this birthday card.

Happy belated.

apricot brandy

are you gonna give it away this quick
bouncing basketballs on the sidewalk
the lass and fair maiden drink ye irn bru
while us first mates drink brandy
they yell obscenties from the street
wah wah get something to eat
mcdonalds is open, start reading the words
caloric intake hahaha i know its good cause i was once it's slave
but the magazine is  FWD or and the rapper his name SLT, coming out of VANCOUVER google em both
hell, i used to eat three big macs a day
morning noon and snack
i know how you feel, just make eye contact so i know it's real
you're all beautiful to me, this world, our lives
don't think twice, you're fine
just don't make fun of me, cause i feelings too
and i'm working to save us somehow
it will happen and the days are viewed in a potential now til next june

hell i coulda been an actor
but i missed the bus
now im stuck for another year
the stage can only do so much
but i need to fly, soar above the escarpment glide in the mesmerizing moon good bye
that good bye what moon eye, Salvador and Bunuel
un chien andalou and a trip to the moon.
we're all back now, each and everyone
the journey is Hamilton, let's win for everyone

Caribbean Adventure

The Caribbean Adventure has begun and I Am ready to be there and enjoy the atmosphere. Lets see if I can get lucky through PokerStars or partypoker. The kid is a soviet spy and the other player is a cop. What will happen we shall see, for now let things be.


The cop is wearing a hat PLAWZA. Ironic. It's reds versus whites in the battle for over 10 000 000 pounds. Should be interesting.

mis-en-scene

There is a technique in film creation known as mis-en-scene. It's a french term for what is being shown within the parameter of the four corners of what we perceive. There are events occurring on the out side of the screen itself because the camera eye doesn't box itself into one area as itself. However, these items are crucial to what we see, therefore have a meaning to be there. Whether plot related or a joke among set, every prop you use in mis-en-scene has its purpose. To the viewer's psyche. Since the silent era, mis-en-scene was able to create thought through what we see in signs. You know, those signs you see on the wall at diner restaurants that are littered through film's history those consume the mis-en-scene to what we visually comprehend.

bleeding my words

"they're gonna rip it off
taking their time right behind my back"

-The White Stripes, 7 nation army

pompeii

There was a man who lived in a cave
told him twice to move pompeii
this ghetto run kid
this slight male adonis
found the way to move craters and shift paradigms
he told madonna
a hey hey hey
she smiled at him
at the bay bay bay
what else do i do besides read and write
my syllabus is too uptight
we going to get kids learning again
armin tamzarian is what they used to call me
now i get the giggles from time to time
because the real knowledge is in front of us
every body soul and spirit
yearns for the land
the land of knowledge
a peaceful place
a safe place
how i yearn to be in one

Jerome the hack

there's Jerome
that silly hack
all he does is work to write and write to work
no one reads his shit but he still writes
what a hack!
he says one day it'll be okay soon
check the clock for a rainy day monsoon
still he hacks
no hope for jerome
the hack artist indeed
he finds a girl
she kisses the back of his hand then leaves
where did she go?
to find a hack like me
asked Jerome to the doctor
the doctor shook his head
what you need is this pill
drink it on down
Jerome closed his eyes
and it felt like he was floating
he reached the top of the clouds
where the birds la vida loco
good night jerome
the silly hack indeed

the only one son

the wildebeest wakes up the neighbors
i can't help it, the madness, the frustration
this is my only hope to stop it all
i sit by the fire and drink tea
the fire is warm and the tea is scorching
i wait a little bit to calm myself down
all i have is this, all we have is now
a doppelganger missed on a Tuesday night
it was one or the other and i made my choice
my mother and roommates are killing my dreams
i have to leave or i will become nothing
dead to words, ashes to ashes
i wish my father and zia were alive
oh god how i need guidence
for the storm is approaching
the sails have been set
the captain knows which way
but he hasn't told anyone yet
this tiredness has just become a rap
take off your jacket, let go of you hat
the boom box is glistening
during the harsh winter daze
my baby she has taken too
my soul is so fragile
i look somewhat lost
keep on writing kid
i do this because there is no cost

Gg with a moustache

slow motion shell shuck

the files of Aphrodite are deep in the catacombs
the files are outdated and speak to themselves
they talk gibberish non stop everyday
knowing one day the Phaedra woke up the storyboard
the lines of knowledge, the taste of victory
how we bleed its blood and concubine to its shell
how i yearn that shell? how i talk so mad.
have you spoke to me before
these are just words but i am much of a man
while i go through your game sphere
i'm nothing but a ninja
come find me indeed

well if you been a married woman

I am nothing. I thought I was a writer but I guess that's not what was meant for me and now i'm just a blob of preconceived notions of a mixture philosophy and biograph still frames. They used to show that in my classes at school. Now I've forgotten all that but i made anew. I'm just beaten up and the people around me aren't helping at all. I just feel so hopeless. Hopeless in art and hopeless in life. She drains my soul every month and i get nothing, i pay her bills while i live on nothing, maybe 100 dollars, and that's being fruitful. Let me go play guitar. I love you all.

the sad story jockey lee

I was once a jockey
I rode the horse, i jumped on the wagon
back and forth, back and forth
down in old Massachusetts town
i used to look at license plates
then i grew up and looked at the driver
am i you? am i growing old behind the wheel?
am i young? with my friends? wishing they'd come back?
who am i?
and i looked at every person
and some would stay still and some would make faces
some had baby on board, some flew cadets
i'm still trying to figure out who i am driving beside me
so i write and hope that the answers will spawn from my fingertips
lightning from my nails, frazzled hair and a toga on
i could be anyone, just a little hard work and elbow grease
they're stealing my work, my money, my things

lurch

i should get a job
i find solace in writing though so i do it instead
create a portfolio
nothing to hide
i enjoy writing and maybe one day i'll be real
dreary september
find yourself indoors
that's my next step
to find the odd doors of perception in the mind i know of as one
but where do we find ourselves
stuck underground, waiting for the time to familiarize my knowledge
i flail around the coast like a fish out of water
it's not a nice place to be when things were so bright for me
now darkness, i see no light, i see darkness in the dread of might
the night, so ready to flee away
but where will i go, what will say
i try to verbalize my mumbles and groans
it seems so hard in the time of reckoning
i try to be me, whomever that may be
don't you find me
alright baby
just knock knock
i'm lurch at the door

wittgenstein

nonsense you poor fool
what is this you speak of, said the man in the chestnut suit
it's my thesis kind sir
it's happadasher
i know you and i still don't understand
how a great mind is lost to the world in physics and philosopy
we're your best friends
your only friends
since you've been tenured
they all scoff you away like a piece of Charleston chew
i'm here
i know but i have to produce this work
no one else will help
we need a team as nonsensical as i am
a team of mayhem and wrapped in an enigma
we need change
and we need it right the fuck now

art is born

i have been mixed up in words for the past week
i can't sleep and i vomit when i eat
i think i''m just going to eat salad from now on
maybe that would be healthful

i look at my wrist watch and i see time
or what we believe is time
lost in catacombs in the deep south
adding adventure to the line up

but there is no adventure here
i made 3 eggs and thats all i know what to think of my existence
three eggs, enough for growing up i guess
where did these eggs come from?

i etch a lance in the stone work
leave a marking so one day someone knows i existed on the moon
but it's a lie
we are all in a dome

we are all stuck in this realm, believing that we are living free lives but we're not
there's time to think about it and then the next flower blossoms and you sneeze again
i don't want to believe in that way, i want to live with my grand children
take care of business first, mygod, at my daughters wedding too
i'll make em an offer they cannot refuse

and thus
the art is born

free world

I missed the call
it's over now or so i think
i'm getting fat and useless
just cups of coffee and cyborgs
quit smoking a pack a day
was it all worth it?
do i exist because of it? or does it exist because i exist?
my heart says go
but my mind says stay
i'd like to see a city emerge
out of the darkness
out of the bullshit
out of the nonsense
it's just more and more that they feed us
i know what they're really saying
sometimes i know too much for my own good
i have books if you'd like to borrow
we are living in the free world

vertebrate words in a hip hop sense

Yo flo
check this out
yo girl is hating on the bimbos you brought
better get outta town
found this tall legged sex kitten
keep me awake for hours
massaging her back and neck
no sex
just loving to feel her knotted neck
so sensual
better get me a pushup pencil

we spend the night in a Motel 8
her daddy's at home, but hell, she didn't cheat
my gold tooth is getting itchy
what shall i do?
drink some coffee
get it loose

she's gone home and i'm staying in bed
check-outs at 3pm, better make it read
i pack up my backpack
that's where all the money is
I got copper and gold and platinum too
no one to buy
better start walking blues

you thought i was done, well hell i just started
these verbs and nouns won't make you uncharted
bounce on the alphabet, get all those words known
ring a ding ding, out passes my phone

it's my mom and she's bitching
from partying all night
buy fucking milk, and pop to drink
i'm on a diet, ma, stop feeding me this junk
you will be mine forever she thinks if i get fat
by the end of the month there's no going back
but i will because these flow rhymes get so dope at home
i carry my dog leash, with the rope at the dome
im carrying that dogleash, alone and on all fours
too much too little, we'll produce it when
all the freelancers and junkies get ready to wed

the paintings on the wall

i wish i could post you about what my days involve. But that's just too easy. I want to keep the audience as audience etc etc.

There was a gust of rain in the Autumn night
I fell asleep by the fire, the logs were slowly simmering out
I had never felt such warmth before, crawling up my legs
around my body, in my love

The master of the household asked if I should be moved to my quarters
I shook my head yes and he slowly handled me upward
for now i walk down the hall as the time traveling bourgeois
I can see the future in this hall, the past and the present

The painting of myself to the left of me as a young woman
so free, so careful, so prim
if only i could travel back in time, lost loves and beauty pageants
i was always up to the challenge

The next painting i look at is myself, aging, smiling
but not a real smile, an old one, like the one i know what else is next
i look in her eye and i see the hope i had for the people
does waving your hand count?

finally, pictures of the present, mature but grey
i get rather bored of things now
i can't move much, the tea turns cold
Where will this take me? heaven if i know

We arrive at the room, good night to old Charlie
a thank you
i'm ready to go in peace
a tiny bless you
let this house be a guide to the fools
it saved us all
even when i didn't have to vaccuum

this is your time

There is a time
when all a writer can do is believe
believe in his craft
in himself
for himself
you will be knocked down
you will have blocked your craft
but it's okay
it will come back
mine hasn't
as i write this hypocritically
you're training yourself through knowledge
the books on the floor
on the desk
in the bed
but you haven't failed
because it all comes back
and you'll be ready for it
and you'll be ready for it
you'll be ready

this blog is number 450

i love you, even though you only exist in my mind
G

tonic water and spurs

I'm beehind on my reeding shelljool. I eed to catch up and make teechur proud. Sshe says i'm smrt but i don't beweave her. I saw a burd today. It folded in the air. Tings like dat make me speshul. I hope I don't make teachur made toomorrow. Dat wood be sad.

I'm doggone behind my reading schedule. Goddamn horses keep me occupied, gotta make boss-woman proud. She really things I'm top of the heap. I saw a falcon today, god almighty what a beautiful creature I ever seen. I can't wait for class tomorrow, got some tonic and my spurs.

plausible canned applause

oh how he brays in his sleep
the man with dirt nap at his feet
they bury him deep, even though he's alive
he just said goodbye to all nine of his wives

they bury him shallow
so his hand does appear
the hand is still moving
better get a director's chair

when wondering about the lady so fair
he dances around in his underwear
back in time, up and down
this miscreant thinks, he has to frown

overtime isn't what it was like anymore
there's no cabron or vodka or gin 5x or more
a carbon copy in my hands
i have to study it, to decipher the plan

inkblots and rorschachs
secret celluloid
homework time he calls it
what a fool he must be

under the golden ashberry lilacs play
wondering what essence
what god is there and where
my english isn't good, i'm sorry for now

i haven't read the book yet
over 1000 pages left to go
i'm getting bored and sick
weeping in my own blood

a tailor made me a suit on sunday
that's all that really happens around here
make me look good, good for the mission
you see, i was just fishin'

the target's in the room and we need those documents
i judo chop
he falls down
i take the documents

these are my souls to sell

Gg

13 jukebox live tracks

No matter where I go, I'm already there. Everything looks the same, nothing changes. It's a whirlpool to the infinite. So where do we stand in this revelation. Is it age? The number? The writing on the wall. Could be. But i doubt it. It was we believe to be real. Our perception of certain objects and environments in the natural world. Why succumb to the barriers we approach everyday and just live. Quit your job. Why? Because you can. THAT is freedom. The office is a cage and your its inmate. Break past the other side and frequent the frequency that is forlorn in your perception.

monologue

The meaning of life is simple. Be fair, play ball and don't ever let the other guy see you fall.  That's what happened to me kid, I fell. I crumbled. I was ashes in a dust pile going straight to hell. I was left for the vultures, metaphorically and i had to fight to get back on top of things. My ideologies, my philosophy, me. I'm not fully back yet, but I'll get there. I'm not worried. Well, that's not completely true. I am a little worried at the moment, because, you see there's a colt .45 lodged in my mouth right now, jamming atop the roof of my mouth. What I say is muffed. (camera angle) *muffled dialogue*. but i can still think. How I got in this situation? I really don't know. All I wanted was to write a book

tech

is this my real face? my body moving? my toes scrunching?
or is just feeling and senses that parade my body forward
i can't seem to listen, all i want to do is read and eat
it's barbaric, i look down at my desk and I see two books
an actor's handbook
carrie
what do i want?

I dodged the bullets of night
i lasted the follies and the miscreants
i was first
and now i'm last again
crawling like a baby
climbing a rope like a man
succumbing to such simple pleasures
are we not men? women? are we not the forsaken?

we are human but we no longer feel that way
technology has swallowed us whole and spit us back out again
technology does lines in the bathroom on a Friday night
technology limits libido
technology breaks man

i was having a conversation
about how no one actually calls anymore
it was a skit from a comedian
i laughed, then i sobbed

oh what a night

34

zippy dee doo da zippy dee yay
what i got here with turn up the bay
so fresh and so clean
i was once during the tides of may

now broken and punctured
cast aside
feeling dismay
at the curse of the bay

stay on 34 they told me hey hey
i look like a donkey, hear me bray
to the victor go the spoils
during the tides of may

capsized on a leather yacht
no one open the door, it's shell shock
bingo bango, mark twain was here
now he's saluting his extravagant cheer

i wish i could be younger
not that i' m much of an old man
keep me guessing twice
at the moment, the blind hand

come back to reality
your future is sworn
new tide has fallen
get the fuck out the door

Gg

isolation?

isolation brings out the best of the universe
we are nothing, we are meant to be nothing and we will know that we are nothing
it's pure nihilist behavior, full force into a brick wall, leave nothing behind
because we do all die alone, that's the sad fact, no matter how much family you have with you
they are there to see you in your last state but they can't be what you are at that moment and they must accept that. that is the grace period of acceptance of death. it has to happen. and we can't stop it but where do we go is the main concern, is there heaven? hell? purgatory? the inferno of Dante? the reincarnation of the east philosophy. where? I start to question this and i realize there is no answer...and there shouldn't be. that's what life is all about. the journey, not the destination. what i give you til now is just motion, a medium, a little piece of a lot of pie. I don't do this for fame, i do this for answers, so we can all share. I thought I was stuck, but that was all in my head. I have a place where i can live, i need a better place though, so these sprouts can blossom to their full potential. Is it too much to ask for? A place to be, to be free even though we are born in chains. Freedom has a price and, philosophically, we are all alive to interpret cause and effect.

show me shoes

show me your shoes
i demand you
for if i do not see your shoes
you may not enter
and that would make you very sad
and me also sad, but we can hug it out later bro
this makes me happy
but i sneak in the back
the waitress sits on my lap
20 dollars on tap
you know what, you cute
no savage brut
so i'll buy all your shots
and i'll meet you back here when you close

i have a boyfriend
it's too late
you smell funny
you don't shave your face
you're cross eyed
you're too smart
i'm just a bunny rabbit
to that meaning of bodily art

Gg

thompson

I got to the bungalow lounge at around 8:15 am. They were serving hard drink at 8:15 am, so I didn't know exactly how to spend 15 minutes. The weather was cloudy and the sun peak through the clouds ever so gently. It's hard being awake all night without proper beverages, so I filled my Chivas glass with some ice and water. To anticipate the 8:30am drink-off. I wasn't drinking for anyone accept me, and the cursed nonsense that just walked through the front door of the press box. It's Lloyd, sonofabitch, haven't seen him in ages. Nor do I want to. Bastard stands behind me at the bar. I can feel his semi erection drifting past my pant leg. I turn my side and he gets the message. Then it's all like OMG, i haven't see you in ages. I ignore him and throw a curveball. Oh James, it's been a pleasure. 8:30 hit. pour full cup, take a shot shake it off. Nice seeing you James. Then I was off to the races.

twisted serpent

the twisted serpent at hallows gate
i wonder if i do my dance, he'll let me wait
coal ovens fuel this ship
all aboard, better jump in quick

the first mate looked at me with piercing eyes
"you're not on list", he turned to jive
what do you mean, kind sir
i'm right there under stanley

oh right, he said
there you are, i expected a plumper rogue that yourself
happens all the time i tell him
then i sneak into a bunk and wait til the ship sets course

the ship is on sea, no one needed thy bunk
i looked out the window, all i see is waves crashing in the darkness of night
the night shows such virtue, so much scarce and the fear
i might even have to jump in, disappear

there's a knock at my door which seems rather odd
it's a beautiful woman, her neck all strung with pearls
are you ready yet, she asked.
i told her, i don't know, whats the itinerery

we're supposed to meet them in half an hour
do you have your pistol? your mace? your weapon of choice?
no i said, i left them on land
well fuck, take mine and don't be dumb with it

do i know this woman?
does she know me?
i don't know anymore
so i ask her, say miss

you know me as much as i know you
we are the operatives, the one to smack down some truth
our main target is the other guy
you'll know it when you see it

i put on my tie and we walk out the door
down the hallway
hand in hand
this story has just began

Gg

Joe

the writing blues

well i got a story for you
bout a man named Joe
Joe was an orphan
his mother didn't know

now he sat up the stairs
looking for his daddy to be
all he got was gum on his shoe
and nail polish on his teeth

oh Joe is woe when you think of it
i can't help him, oh lordy can you
we need to find Joe a daddy
or else he won't suffice

poor Joe, whatcha gonna do
walk down the plank, the aisle, some suit
we can make you look good
comb your hair and dress you nice

that didn't matter to joe
all he wanted was just to be nice
not all the money in the world would matter to joe
no diamonds, no sapphires, nothing like that

Joe has a future
a golden goal
a half pound of bread
hidden in the front part of his pants

so thats Joe
what i know of him
he seems like a nice guy
hands out bread for free

Gg

no.thing.ness

I think I've found nirvana
I am nothingness
All I have is my imprint where i stand
i am a shadow of my former self
i am nothingness
all my dreams are dead or dying
how can i keep them from staying alive
how can i feel again
smile again
love again
I am nothingness
too fat for the role
to ugly to love
a boy only a mother could love
i sit back and drink my water
it replenishes my body
it is additional to my nothingness
there are no ways of having my skills come back
it's over now, baby blue
or should i sit back and wait
i will get it if i wait
i promise you
i will run twice a day
go swimming at night and stretch
i am nothingness
watch me go

seat 1

I was sitting my seat and to the left of me was this really wild one from China. She was beautiful and she had a lollipop in her mouth. Distract the men at the table. As she finished her lollipop I began to talk to her. She was open for conversation on poker. Die hard poker queen. I tried to joke around but she wasn't having any of it, so I asked her why she didn't have ring yet. She laughed and showed me 3 rubies on her right hand. I told her to show me her left and she didn't at first. Then all was quiet when i had pocket AA dealt to me and an unknown hand for some hot shot kid that kind of looked like Bradley Cooper from the Hangover movies. I was all in after the flop and he laughed and said "got ya bud". He showed 66 for a set of 6s on the flop then the table roared. ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN, they announced on my side. Big bad A on the turn gave me some satisfaction. She giggled and we made small talk. She slid the word baby in our conversation and it caught me off-guard. I would agree to it of course. She likes to gamble and we'd make good looking kids.

And that's how i play poker.

proposition 13

Proposition 13 here

get your proposition 13 here

do we each get one vote

so choose it wisely

beer or Shakespeare

i'm dead if you choose beer

no one knows Shakespeare anymore

i need a drink

so i ask for a glass of water and the man in the back said hush

we'll get you a proper drink

i look at my watch and it's half past 3 in some ancient language

everything is spinning

then i hit the floor

hard

it hurt and i was awake

i jumped up and down as my jaw hung from my molars

then i walked to the bank across the road

all i saw was vomit and Burroughs

he asked me for a light 

i shuffled in my pockets and i got him one

he lit a spoon on fire and went back to his ditch

never gave me back my lighter

so i walk in the bank

lay down my wallet on the floor between my feet

and i just lay on the ground until security comes round

nice to meet you i say and they jump up and down

nice to meet you too they replied

then i took their badges and ran

they weren't really fast

so i walked past browsing the stores

everything is so beautiful on James street N at night

mom told me to bring a sweater

i lied and said i did

she drove away

and i fell in love with a barista

Gg

idiot savant 2 untitled

I have awoke conciously. Still strapped to this inferior makeshift wooden bed. The women have taken me hostage. I helped trained them and they have coup dtat my sorry ass. I can't blame all of it however. I went from zero to sexify in the first 5 months on the island. Has it been 5 months already? Who knows? I'm going to break the fourth wall and ask you what you think. And all I hear is silence and cries from the babies goo goo ga gas. I figured they took all they needed but the still haven't let me untangle myself. The Queen hierachy is over but then again, no one pays attention to me except a woman in her early 20s. She is my ink i need to get back to the outside island. I shall call her Octopus. My octopus. Sounds so sweet doesn't it. I don't understand what she's saying half the time so i just nod my head and smile and she just talks and talks. In my mind she's talking about another island, but most likely it's about her Apple iPhone she got from the cessna. It got smashed when she was playing volleyball. See, the island caters to the female pursuasion. I ask Octopus to loosen my hand threads and she does so. She is fertile and asks me if we could, ya know. And for once in the first time in my life I say no. The sun is hot today. I bite through my restraints and my hands are free and she helps me untie my legs. I begin to stand up, but fail miserably. I need to grab onto the desk to help me regain my balance. My hands miraculously work when she pours me a handful of nuts. I wonder if there's a teevee to watch the baseball game on. All I can hear in my mind is slider and breaking ball. But no, these are just voices in my head. I step out of the hut and it hits me. I can swim back. Swim back, or die trying. There's a buzzard circling my hut and it just annoys me.

dream

has this dream stopped? Is it over for me now, left in the barracks of my fortress of solitude. Where can I live free? They yell at me from car's. "It's over bitch". And i nod and smile. There's nothing in the world that can predict my future. I've been a hedonist for too long. Can anyone dream with me?

more anew

“You get off often?” Sasha asked. “You know, ride the elevator often. I prefer taking the stairs but who knows these days with so many people being robbed in their own homes, pure habdasharry.”

“It's quite silly really when you think of it,” Mik agreed. “Even in our homes we are no longer safe from the vile intruder with his eyes only on gold and silver and diamonds and roubles. What would you prefer in life? To live in fear, or die in peace? That is the ultimate question, really, if you really think of it.”

“I don't prefer to think at all. I find that once I start to think I get lost in my own mind. In that vortex of space and time. Don't make me start, oh lord.” Sasha smiled. “I really shouldn't. Now you say we should stop for a cup of coffee. I'll take you up on that offer, young sir!”

The elevator arrived at the ground floor and I held the door for her. She walked passed and brushed her hair into my face, that smell! Oh god that aroma. The life in my body went to my crouch and my eyes fluttered. I lost circul atory ability in my brain and I could only taste salt and vingar crisps. The hairs on the back of my neck went clockwise. My hands began to shake and drool formed a pool at the corner of my lips. My toes reached upwards and my heel buried deep into the concrete.

And then it was over. She walked passed me and twirled showcasing her one piece vintage moomoo. Well I call it a moomoo but I think the proper term for the outwit we be au couture. Blah! What the hell is such a thing? I've heard of one pieces and two, but I don't know the other “accessories” if understand me mutually. Finally, we have come to our d'accord, our end of conversation at this point for now I must keep fully ascertain to the young woman before I can muster up enough gusto to have another one of these rendevous we keep adjoining ourselves with.

“Where were we?” I asked.

“Just pitter-patter small talk. You say you prefer La Cafe over Americano? Each has their own uniqueness to their essence. I like the patio at La Cafe, but I also like a strong man who can make a decision for themselves and choose a patio, even if it isn't the preferred choice by a date. Are you that man? Or are you just another boy?”

“I'm an atheist, ma'am.” Mik replied.

lather fin

Shelbs looks ecstatic but she doesn't speak to me.  She just looks at me and I see Cass in a chair with the lather bar imprints on her. She's not scared and I get the sunblock out of my tote bag. I tell Shelbs to put this moisturizer on the affected area ever three times during the day. This isn't the Shelby I know though, this is someone else. Someone i can't even explain. She's quiet. It's odd, and I wonder why. I ask her a question and she just nods her head gently. No words, nothing. I leave both of them and decide to continue to find survivors who aren't lathes. My idea is to stay close to the side streets. Avoiding any traffic that is oncoming. The side streets are beautiful and i remember the life I had in the farm town growing up. Such peace and tranquillity. I could stay here for hours, but the final deadline is at 10 tonight. That gives me three hours to finish what I started, and that is to save the human race, or at least New York if I can. Then the idea is decided by a purely conscious thought. But, it won't work...it's too intense. There are too many affected and I can't save them all, so I wander the streets looking for the lathers, or peelers is the new name I created for these entities. It hasn't gone national yet, since most of the marketing division decided to test a large scale are first and then go from there. Europe and Asia are the next areas, but after I am done this story I can live my normal life again. There are no reporters with cameras, they have all been paid off substantially. No one in the streets yet, but once the lather kicks in and the drug in it begins to accumulate, lathes would be everywhere. I'm afraid to even get to that point where you don't know who your working for anymore. Am I freelance now? Is there more behind the lathes? I need a scientist, a sociologist, a botanist and someone who has accessed to weapons on at an easy access. I go to the nearest university and figure that if I need these sources, it would be the best place to start searching. The campus is too far to walk to and I find a motorcycle crashed upright into a Tiffany jewellery store just a mile away. The key is still in the ignition and I am lucky it is. So i get on the motorcycle and the engine turns. I'm off to the university.

The campus seems untouched by the lather. They must have decoded my message from my last report. The columns had the answer, a word search answer for alarm. The code was there. I found the scientist, the botanist and the sociologist but most students were anti-NRA. I didn't even know if these lathes had any soul left in them, but they wouldn't attack me, so I figured I didn't need the guns anyways.

We took a private room in the school dorm and I briefed everyone on the situation. The scientist and botanist worked together and then finally I could talk to a sociologist. I had my own issues from what was happening to my family and I figured a man like this could be of assistance. Chad knew a bit about Freud and studies, but he truly loved talking about statistics, so i went with it. I told him the number of products sold and how on average would have actually succumbed to the latheing process.

“It grows from the cells that reproduce, usually the X or Y chromosome, but it's mutated into something irregular, bringing a knew gene I don't, or can't even have a word for it.”

He was right, we're screwed. The Botanist appeared with vials and vials of plantlife, saying that this is the ignition for the anti lather. The Scientist appears too with a faster acitng vial of similar plantlife, but it works faster. This all seems too surreal for me, but I let the knowledge surpass my criticism.

I leave the university with vials of this new antidote and I feel pretty well off having these antidotes with me. I stop in front of the hotel, er, lab that was housing my daughter and wife. Shelbs is comatose on the couch, too much alcohol and cocaine. And then my daughter is there, twitching, I'm afraid. So, I take a vial and she drinks it and it takes about 30 minutes to react. I sit in the room and just stare, stare at the walls, the ceiling, the floor. I just be. I fall asleep on the floor and when I wake up Cass is cured. No more blotches or dry skin.

I'm on the street and handing out vials of those nearby. Those who are at stage 2-3, they have the better chance of surviving the epidemic with the vials. There's people crawling on the floor, trying to prop themselves up on anything that can be used as a stool or table. LabTech has already reached level 5 for these lathes. Nothing could really save them now. Something that could help them rid the pain themselves would be okay. But we're not ready for that.

I hand out about 20 antidote and by splicing the mitochondria it will save upwards of 90-100 lives. All I can afford today until the rest of the antidote is made. The Scientist and Botanist are working very delicately on the work. And sociologist is admiring the numbers and where the most population occurs via distribution of the lather console. The team works perfectly.

Everything is working as planned and the survivors are healing quickly. Everything the epidemic is now over. There is no need for antidote, so we just let the university discover the periodic tables for what the lather is made from etc.

There hasn't been an outbreak in over a year for lather and we are grateful for that. The only problem is, that some of the early manufacturers have lather in their warehouses somewhere.

Me and my family are together and we are in a fancy restaurant downtown and I leave to go to the washroom. I do my thing and press the soap out and wash my hands. I look over at the soap dispenser and I almost faint. Labtech Lavender lather, from before the outbreak, and now I'm the only one infected. I am now a lathe. I am now a product of consumerism and the helms of the big threes grasp. My fingers fall off.

END

thanks

I'd like to thank the following people:

Istvan Kovacs
Sebastien Booth
Tina Kovacs
Walter Kaufmann
Dave and Kim Ireland
the team at 4UPoker
and all the WPTL friends I made over the years

I hope it was beautiful


Giordan

bull market

if you want some advice, take the bull market

i sense good things

breaking the fourth wall

once upon a time (MYTHOS), there was a turtle and a hare. The two of them were much different. the hare had nice woolly fur and the turtle has a hard shell covering his body. they were in a certain situation which involved both gentlemen. an amazing race no doubt. t. The turtle had a cake for lunch and the hare coughed up a hairball. what a funtastical group of racers put in a game for all. There was a pigeon, a cat, a pig and a dog. The race was one of knowledge, not speed and the wily lil hare still coughed up his hairball. The pig plucked his tail and the pigeon just went in circles. The dog just howled at the moon and the turtle sang a miley cyrus song. Finally, the announcer declared that the race was on and that each animal should go to their post.

They were ready to go. And all of them stopped and looked at the reader of the novel. This book is about you joining the activities that we all forgot about. The running, the jumping, and the fun it is to be outside with your fictional farm house friends.

atoms

if there is any individual action, it occurs simultaneously through a medium which went the actions and gratifications that must coincide with one another with a brief bond of togetherness actions, splicing neurons to meet a full anatomically spouse, if there ever is one. four neurons combusting to create 2 full atoms, through genetic splicing. two perfect beings, born from the same womb at different intervals, one genetically one male, one genetically female, or both simulated as "others".

i do not know if this makes sense but i will figure it out in the fall months

food ad

ya see,
back in my day
we didn't have gluten free
or GMOs
our food came fresh from the source
cut by the beef butcher
chickens plucked
and i was raised on the dairy

now that times have changed you can expect the same quality of _______ foods to keep your household fresh and well formed.

Our food is our livelihood
Our quality lives for you

__________, always.

jack and lois

aesthetically astounding
forever unique
the food is magnificent
satisfy an appetite complete

have a cigar

In the middle of the corp unit
i wrote a song she loved
i never saw her again
but i knew i was in love

what that song sung
let me try and remember
oh it goes like this
bear with me please

"the battle around us
the love i have
could hold 25 tanks
at the victory banks
i wave goodbye
don't know if you saw
my lady she's on port
my lady she don't wave back
like i never saw her
nor did she see me
it was the fall of september
autumns eve
my weapon in hand
my team at my back
ready to expect the unknown
ready to expect anything
but nothing came
and i love her"

i wrote this in the bunkers of Normandy in my blood
she never could open it, it forever was lost
what a tragic tale, she probably found someone new
dementia at my age, hell, a cuban cigar would do

pitch three

Playing rugby is a dangerous sport. Especially if your team is half demented and ego maniacal. They are head of the league, but something is still not right. The coach is videotaping every game and has the surefire way to win each and every game. The vice coach is a teacher, bent on teaching kids the education of the game. And then there's the team of misfits and slackers. Stuck playing against the undead that doesn't feel pain. Rugby. When your last chance happens, you better play scrum.

Lafayette

Laying down in Lafayette square
counting all the misfortunes i had there
the crows in the sky squawk madness
i couldn't be in  a better place

the chime of  Medusa's bell
woke me up at a half past twelve
the city roars with excitement
and i'm just laying there, laying there

watching my feet move through the grass
there is no anthem for this day pass
Lafayette is opening it's doors
and i'm just laying there, laying there

come together, all people
come with each other now
the sky is blue like the water
and guess what, i'm just laying there.

watching the tvs through the glass window
i see myself in the reflection
laying there, in despair
and i'm just laying there, laying there

hell, someone asks me for a cigarette
i said no, then i gave him a lecture on Qs
he stopped asking for cigarettes that day
and i'm just laying there, laying there

my concentration is fully aware
i sit on the melancholy doorsteps
still wondering, how the hell i got there
and i'm just laying there, laying there

come together, all people
come with each other now
the sky is blue like the water
and guess what i'm just sinking, just sinking
laddy loo

Gg

superhero

Deep in the throes of a vanquished city, rise a group of valiant soldiers who choose to save what is left of the remaining decay of what was once Labamel. These 4 individuals choose to risk their lives everyday to save the core of the town. These people are heroes.

Judgement- a strong, man whose only weakness is his hands he lost function of in the great fire of early ages. He is noble, loyal and he has the final decision on all accounts. He is the boss.

Undercover as a fry chef, Tina 1-2-3, uses her vast amount of verbal skills to persuade any enforcer who stands in her way. She falls in love too easy and that's her main downfall.

Leef- knows more about anything but he never speaks, or leaves his room. He is the guard of the fort, and if any strikes should occur he would detain and lock down the fort just in case. He is the protector.

Then there's Lip, rummaging through peoples trash to find a clue of his existence. He found a lottery ticket once and it funded the fort and many different organizations to get kids off the boulevard and to affordable safe housing.

Finally, but not last, the man in the streets, in the shadows, name unknown, he is the enforcer of the team.

Lets just start off, my book authenticity has been jeopardized. There maybe a circulation of them that i dont know know of yet.

By ruining my dreams she has made me long gone. I'm stuck in this house, doing fuck all and trying make something out of my life but i can't. Everyone hates me. They probably should but i'm doing this for you Hamilton. I want to save you, we can make art the new steel. We can rise up and take back the streets that were so caved into depravity.  These  are just ideas. Instead of catering to just a unique few, the believe in you fund should help those almost peaking into their individuality. My life sucks, but I want to see you happy Hamilton. I want to see a place where Sarcoa caters to an immense crowd of musicians, novelists and the students who are always wishing to learn to improve themselves. And the ones who need help get the proper treatment. I think they did a terrible job developing West 5th. There's no more room to grow the building, it's only centred to parking lots and shrubbery. There's no room for expansion and they should turn the auditorium into a locally owned theatre company ala Theatre Aquarius. I need help to get out of this place. This is my SOS..

more lather

The suburbs are filled with families using soap and the news media covers the story. The soap is good they say. Worth every penny and they'll give you a membership card if you pay them enough. Almost like a platinum card with no real worth to it. The lawyers who could defend the case are lathering themselves and so are the doctors. It won't become an epidemic until the process completes itself and the full time period has passed it's point. My skype rings.

I adjust the screen and I see beautiful Shelby. There still in the same hotel.

“Hi babe, guess what?” Shelbs smiles.

I laugh, “what?”

“We got it, Cass has been using that soap you've been promoting,” my heart drops and I want to yell but they are watching my Skype as well and I cannot give out information.

“Remember, that time we talked about the codes I was learning while I was writing about the silent film stars.”

“Yeah,” she stops to think, “let me get a piece of paper.”

She sits back down and I begin blinking.

Three blinks for stop, four slow winks for soap.

Shelby looks at me through skype with her eyes widening.

Cassandra enters the room in a towel “Hi dad.”

I can't help but look away, the skin on her shoulders are beginning to peel from the soap.

Then the computer shuts down. And there's a knock at the pod. The door slides open and it Roman, his hands have turned into pieces of filet mignon and dripping blood. He looks down at his belt and there is a gun in it.

“Shoot me now, you son of a bitch,” he demands. I take the gun out of his pants and theres a silencer on it. “Do it you bastard?” I can't kill a man,  even though he will be in much more pain if I don't. I close my eyes and the gun fires. Missing him completely. There was only one bullet in the gun. And Roman just stood there, blinking. His eyes starting to ooze and you can see the soap, the harbinger, crawling through his body like a tapeworm. He could only mutter words together and form unintelligible sentences.  This is going to happen to my daughter as well as the general public. If only they waited, they could be saved but the corporation's numbers were more important. Now we've turned into statistics rather than individuals. Quantity rather than quality, field mice in the maze of an unknown atmosphere. And Roman just sits there, staring at me with his eyesocket gauged out of his eye. Attached to some sort of blue vein,gushing cottage cheese out of his nose, ears and mouth. I go to hold him but its too late. He's a pile of purple cabbage in my pod. He must have been one of the first test subjects. Soon Cass will turn into goop. Not unless I can figure out a way to stop this madness. There must be something in this lab that can reverse the effects, maybe a moisturizer of some sort. Eureka! That would be the only particle agent that could save her. And maybe the rest of the world.

I left the pod, stepping over Roman's remains, and see Nosferatu wandering the halls. He's not even wandering, he's hovering with his bald head doing surveillance of the facility. He can smell me, I know, but I got to make it to the third floor. My keycard must still have access to it and if not, then I don't know what I can do. And it works, the third floor access key is still valid. I walk through the sliding doors and it's already a set. A hotel room set and all there's one door with three symbols on it. The same as the numbers on the test subjects. I bang on the door and I hear a voice inside and from behind me. Behind me is a security guard, tough faced, poulou esque and ready to fight. He pulls a knife and I see myself in danger. It's another level. I kick the knife out of his hand and it turns to organisms that scatter down the corridor. He starts to choke me and I fall ill to the floor in seizures. What kind of witchcraft is this? I swipe my leg into his ankles and he stumbles a bit and falls to the floor beside me. Then he stands back up and I run to tackle him but it turns into dust and he's once again behind me.  This Poulou motherfucker thinks he's got me now doesn't he? I spin and throw another punch. More dust. I start to cough and try not to breath it in. Once more we go back and forth trying to beat each other down and the man becomes nothingness after my other limbs attack him. The sand scurries away back to where I entered. There's a pod door with a note on it. Something Lutherian. I don't study much anymore.  The note is a room service list and i bang on the door and the pod slides open. Shelbs has answered the pod. So has Cass but she is far in the back, dry skinned and peeling already. I only have enough antidote to cure one person and this is where it gets difficult. Should I save my only daughter or mass produce this antidote? This is the inciting force. Lose one to save millions. She's my only one for godsakes. I could never live without her. I'd shoot myself first before hurting her.  The problem is ethics. Just like those scientists, they knew it was ethically wrong after the first subject, but they still continued on Boss's orders. I can't think like this. There has to be more antidote in the lab somewhere, but the way this place evolves, who knows what corridor I'll end up in next. I could be on the moon for all I know. I can help her survive the next 24 hours and still have enough to make it viable before the early stages. I saw Cass for the first time after her initial lather. Her shoulders were peeling and i could already see the tissue dissolving. I told Shelbs to ensure that she falls asleep, since it will restore some of the lost tissue cells. The sunblock esqe was a jell like substance And Shelbs began to lather the gelly onto Cass's shoulders. This could be the only antidote left in the building to cure what is happening on the outside of my pod, in the world pod-into-world. The skyphone shuts off and I'm back to square one again. There seems to be no hope for the human race if this lather is being distributed in massively and I'm the only one left with any sense of virtue left in my being, my soul, my spirit. I go into the empty labs and stock my notebag with this substance. The I see Frank. He's off in his own world and I don't bug with him, I leave as soon as possible. I break through the side door, it turns into a sticky substance on the ground and it engorges me like quicksand. I manage to find some asphalt and push myself up out of the mess. Now I'm the only one who hasn't lathered in NYC, or at least a fair amount of survivors. The pod doesn't matter anymore, the real message was on the tape recorder and my daughter may or may not be one of the lathes. That's what we call the users now, lathes. The moan in the streets out of pain and I wish I could help them but I just can't not all of them because there just too many. I climb a tree and see a distorted vision of my family in the window. Is it really them? Have my journalistic skills brought me closer to madness? Shelbs waves and I wave back, it's them, I'm not blind yet. Maybe deaf and dumb but not blind. I climb the branches to the window and they open it gently. Is this a dream? Am I going to wake up back in the pod again, with Roman knocking on my door?

loft

I'm sitting in the Loft enjoying a glass of white chardonney. Why am I here i wonder? Why does it matter? She's looking for boarding passes and i'm stuck on this donkey machine. What else can I say? I'm a man of wisdom yet madness. You probably won't understand until i'm six feet under but at least i can say i tried. I tried to do the best i could to be the best son in the world, but i lost him. My father, my aunt, my own. Who do I talk to? Who can i trust anymore? This fear and loathing has encumbered my soul. Seek asylum, fly a cane, eat the medicine, goodbye old pain. I'm going to the rock show on Saturday. Seek refuge from a friend. Am I alone in this world? Why can't i connect? All i have been thinking is bleep boops and bee bops and philosopy and resuming. The life I can live without the pressure, without the pain. I am stronger than that, i fulfill your appetite of knowledge. The people around me are jesterly finding ways to let loose & enjoy themselves. I want to start a conversation but the words whimper into a tiny hush. Is this the end to zombie Shakespeare? Lets hope not or else i'll find the bastards and show them my lazerreto, my home.

relatively of nature

The relatively of nature occurs once the inhabitant leaves the quote un quote nest home. Once leaving the secure location of a nurture setting, the outside world seems to be delusion to the inhabitants around said world. We are heaven on Earth. What that means is that we all are a part of  a grid that spirits travel through. These spirits show themselves only once in a while. For instance, you watch a television show and a character is in form of the medium. The medium transfers energy to the viewer and everything that viewer has cultivated seeing has become a part of that person's world. I know its a tough concept to grasp but it makes sense once analyzed in the proper fashion. It's just one glimpse into individual perception and how we experience the world.
 

Define audience, that's a good question. We're all apart of a group of people who are being advertised to constantly during the day, at night, on teevee, in our homes. Yet we just accept it as everyday life and that brand power really does make a difference. On the bus, a man wears a teeshirt with a crest on the breast side. What does it say, you wonder. and then you see it and it explains a product or service. Abercrombie and Fitch puts all their names on their clothing to mass advertise what the company wants you to think through perception. Even on the bus we see this an its just clothes but its so much more than that. It's viewing a message that big business wants you to see so it get recognized and can sell more of their products.

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