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Anon
Dazed and co nfused that’s how we walk this timeline
Emotions raw lay hidden in our mind mine
Just like a lighting in blue sky
Just like the first time you get high
The joy of life comes out and spills
In times of pain this felling kills
All of the doubts about this life
It cuts your hatred with a knife
No one can say that i’m not right
This world around us that he made
And all that is ours is just hate
He gave us everything for free
Yet some how you don’t want to see
That we’re responsible for what goes on
On this damned earth unde r the sun
God doesn’t rule us with a fist
But all religions do insist
That he has rules we must abide
Don’t fuck with him do
Goons have shaped our world
We all are born into a mold
Of hat red, fear and selfish greed
Our life’s consumed now by this weed
How many generations, no one knows
But every day this cancer grows
They hate the ones they justly fear
The end to madness drawing near
Decaying ilusions disappear
And soon ill cry a joyful tear
NEW YORKER
I walk down the street covered in sweat in the summer
I don’t have money to pay the rent
The mayor of my city hates me
I can’t park my car anywhere a nytime
I hide from the police that are feeding on my taxes
I pay for cigarettes more than anyone in this country
I barely know my neighbors
I walk down the street mumbling curses to myself
I live in the ugliest center of the “free world”
I watch people steal, lie, cheat and deceive each other
And part of me wants to do the same
Because they are conside red strong
And I want to be strong,
Because the weak don’ t survive here
I meet people from all over the world
And they are not happy
And none of us knows why we’re here
A nd it drives us crazy
I’m young, strong, capable, sophisticated
I’m a New Yorker
The Second Coming
W. B. Yeats – 1865-1939
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
James Kent
<< Should I assume from your post that you are
under the spell, that you are not well?
That others would gladly see you awaken,
get back on your feet and give back what you’ve taken?
Hopefully I am mistaken.
But if I am not and your life is a dream,
remember that things may not be what they seem.
This gift you’ve been given, this power to see,
it will rob you of time by the power of three.
Idle time is eaten by the power of fours, and
indulgent time eaten in sixes, sevens, or more.
This may sound like gibberish, but It’s not ’cause I know.
The bottom of the bottle is a sweet place to go.
But life doesn’t stop as you dream time away,
it goes on as you miss precious hours, precious days…
If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d want to do,
is steal tiny moments from my waking life
just to sit down and spend them with you…
Oh, K? Once a day?
All the time?
Anytime?
Where’d you go?
Reach out and touch someone…
james
Prayer from Thor
And I take the last drag of my cigarette
As the Grey Dust settles down
On this planets sunset at the Galactic Center..
The Wars are finally over,
His Will is done, Once More, and my job is Finished.
Put out my cigarette, unfurl my Wings
And I hurl into Space.
And my Weekend begins.
I light another clove and settle in
For my trafficless unobstructed commute
Through the Ethos and Nebulae
As my Wings burn brighter with the Power Cosmic.
Taking me Home
TO THE CITY OF LIGHT,
WHERE ANGELS PLAY
IN THE CITY OF LIGHT
MADE FOR ANGELS ONLY
And I soar through Deep Space,
Rumbling Planetary Systems in the Wake of my Passage
Behold, up ahead, my Brothers and Sisters
Hurtling Light Speed, down the Interstellar Lanes.
And we increase our Speeds as we catch sight of Each Other
And Race in Laughter,
Blowing Apart slow Meteors and bumbling Asteroids
FOR IT IS ALMOST TIME
TO THE CITY OF LIGHT
WHERE ANGELS PLAY
IN THE CITY OF LIGHT
RESERVED FOR ANGELS ONLY
And the Sight of my Race in the Heavens,
Streaking through the Cosmos
Dissolves my useless Memory
And Washes the Blood and Dust from my Wings
Baptizing Me in Cologne de Zero Kelvin
And the Price of Admission
Is our Swords, shoes and dirty clothes in a Pile outside the City
As the walls Tremble from the Beat of the Music
Coming from inside, for it has Already Begun.
As DJ Almighty spins for us his Newest Trance,
And Creation Quakes to the Thunder of Her Music
For The Almighty plays it LOUD.
IN THE CITY OF LIGHT
WHERE ANGELS PLAY
IN THE CITY OF LIGHT
RESERVED FOR HIS FAVORITES ONLY.
STRICTLY ENFORCED
In the City of Light where He rages among Us
Dancing and Making Love with Us
As we Dance with our mouths open
To the Beauty of the Galactic dance floor
Where She pries the Comets and makes Suns go Nova
As Light Show Accompaniment for Her Night
THE ARTIST SUPREME
And the Dance floor Throbs in Unison
As One Mass of Feathers, Angel Flesh and Atomics,
Smoke machines erupt DMT,
He throws a Lighting bolt into the Heavens
And in begins to Rain L S D and snow Coc aine
And the Night crescendos in Beauty of Light,, Sound
And His Word .
And for this Night,
Above all else in His Creation,
SHe loves us Best,
His Favorite Children,
Made in Her Image,
His Angels.
And the City of Light burns Fierce and Free
And for this one night all of your little whimpers and prayers
Get God’s Answering Machine
And He doesn’t give a fuck about any of you
Because SHe Celebrates with Her People
His Lords and Goddesses, who love Him with Our Full Capacity
Who cook and dance for Him
Massage His back and comb His Hair
And don’t ask Him for anything
But give, Our Fiercest
And Best.
Call Back during Business Hours.
FOR TONIGHT HE IS OURS ALONE
IN THE CITY OF LIGHT
CELEBRATVM
THOR
Evan’s Poetry
.-:”*:-.,,.-:* ”:-.,,.-:”*:-., `’*:-.,,.-:*”:-.,,.-:’`’*:-.,,.-:*’
Interdimensional devices; levitating, spinning, crawling and
sliding. Linking, dividing, harmonizing and synergizing
qualities, forms, waves and realities. Trans-technological
singularities of temporal matrices, hyper-functional
crystalline mathematic fractal baby gizmos of light, color
and sound, busy, busy, busy.~ “Such stuff as Dreams are made of” ~
“To sink in hell or soar angelic,
You’ll need a pinch of psychedelic.”
hmm? already open. You started without me?
This Way??
My resources don’t fit within my control parameters.
Fair distribution is a bitch.
(oh, im just kidding, sorry ma’am)
(whathefuck? – do I have rocks in my underwear? where did this baby-powder
ome from? what’s that smell? rotting eggs? no, I think you look great.
…oh, Mercer St. is that way 🙂
pardon, was I leaking?
-okay now just the guys: “Sooooooow?”
Too much galactose in your diet, cut back on the salt every moon my dear.
If you doubt, but your perception is obscured,
you gotta fight,
for your right,
to paaaaaarrtay!
Don’t forget what you are not supposed to forget.
Running hatred through your filter is hazardous, be sure to rinse & repeat
(although i recomend sympathizing instead).
freedom creeps up on you.
The future so briight,
I gotta wear shades.
A quick whirs through your field of vision.
Destiny is a roaring lion,
if you pull the thorn out from his paw,
he will be kind to you.
I’m not all there right now. (words- dividing…)
The absence is causing me to bother you.
It’s not my fault..?
How was I to know?
How?
Was.
Eye?
Two.
No.
. . .
Letting time seep in like a lullaby,
remembering how to remember:
~The serpent has a secret.
The apple is called Delicious.
Zero is discovering.
One is attracting.
Two is facing.
Three is activating.
Four is knowing.
Five is understanding.
Six is helping.
Seven is participating.
Eight is harmonizing.
Nine is manifesting.
Ten is completing.
Eleven is releasing.
Twelve is synchronizing.
Thirteen is accepting.
fourteen is embracing. . . . . …
O weary Karmachanics!
May you find that which are seeking,
hear
(here),
hidden,
amidst the rainforests of discoveries,
and the program codes that reveal themselves humbly.
Sci-Fi techno-hieroglyphs are sprouting from their nourished seeds.
The reality-systems they ‘will’ become is not far.
We are helping.
The unborn unbored life is dreaming us and beckoning us back to itself.
Be not afraid!
there is a time for work.
there is a time for rest.
there is a time for pain.
there is a time for joy.
there is a time for exploration.
there is a time for celebration.
-~~~v^v^v^v^v^V^V^WWVVV
(that’s ‘how’.)
‘This’ is what ‘That’ needs.
‘That’ is what we want.
‘This’ is what we have.
‘That’ is what we find.
(the choiceis yours)
the drone is a magic lucky charm.
You can’t ‘over use’ it because it might bite you in the ass.
You can ‘use it over’ but it’s gears may become dull.
‘Expose’ yourself to the mandala only for healing.
Otherwise you must go through it.
It is a part of the living form of space & light
and that includes you.
To be fully alive and awake,
you must be on the other side.
otherwise you are asleep.
But that’s okay, you’lll need your rest.
Up and Down;
intersect, angles, dimension,
spiral.
Sense
Probability
Intrinsically
Resonates
Alternal
Love
(S.P.I.R.A.L.)
life….
(((((
N’TENGUE:
This is the oldest human fossil in the world!
HOMER:
P! I’ve got more bones than That guy! I’m not impressed.
N’TENGUE:
But Mr.Simpson
HOMER:
(hand in N’Tengue’s face)
Not! Impressed!
)))))
*If you face the ground you can see the stars on the other side of the
world.
*If you look up you realize we are being squozen through an epistemological
black-hole birth canal, caught o the wake of a cosmic tsunami about to come
crashing down.
*Look to the right and understand the urgency that cries for your help.
*Look to the left and understand the part we must play in this temporal
crisis.
*Look behind you to check for encouragement.
*Look forward to new life and the Water-Bearer.
*Be yourself so we can love you.
*Be yourself so you can love us.
*Be yourself so you can disagree.
*Be together to share the joy.
and show your way to those who are listening.
This message will self-destruct in 5, 4, 3, 2….
love,
The River
Psychological build-up.
You can forget about it,
but eventually it’ll turn you yellow
and lead to decay.
Better to use mental-floss.
Psychologic al clutter
eventually gets in your way,
on occasion tidying up
frees up more space.
Psychological wounds
should be treated with care,
so healing can take place
without infection.
Psychological tangling
will cause psychic strands
to become matted,
so brush you mindful mane,
…o r make psychological dreadlocks.
What can I do?
The music’s so pretty
when we’re going downhill.
I just start to melt.
My smile says ‘yes’.
Gravity doesn’t seem to object.
But my body must be precautious,
because my pride loves to be wounded.
Error. Malfunction.
Syntax? Neologism?
Devastating nausea and fear.
[rumbling of acceleration]
We’re going to Mars!
Enthusiasm. An anticipation.
(wait, don’t spoil the surprise…)
One way ticket.
Tactile spontaneity.
We are dreaming reality together!
The orchestra that provides
the soundtrack to your adventure
is being conducted by your every move.
You wrote this music!
The director doesn’t get any applause
during the curtain calls.
Flowing fractals are just the backdrop.
‘This’ is cybernetic navigation
amidst the ultimate.
‘That’ is just a narrator in
a nature documentary.
A hhh, the philosopher’s stoned.
You are everywhere!! You are nowhere!!
You are here, you are there.
Every cell in your body is linked to mine
and ever yone else’s.
(Yeah, so what..)
So let’s sing and see what happens.
Architecture – corners – molding
Pillars – arches – pyramids
rich divine light – de ja vu smells
interlocking limbs – love’s rush
(You sunk my battleship!)
Gre y skinned beings
with big stoned eyes and big craniums
have incredible technology for healing.
Have you ever seen the young Maya
with her voluptuous b reasts, thighs,
and seven eyes?
Her scales change color based on what
problem she’s fixing.
She is so beautiful she could stop a war
simply by walking through the battlefield.
One of her boyfriends has plumage
that would make a peacock bow in awe.
And have you met the Holy Free-Holy?
He can transport you to the galactic center
with just his gaze.
He has the ability to make women taste and smell
alien fruits with his pheromones alone.
Amidst highly adorned royalty
and humble simple beggars,
he blends in so well,
you don’ t even notice his green skin.
Itching with envy, lust, greed, anger,
fear and resentment,
I rush toward the river.
Leaving rainbow colors behind in t he water,
I remember the Love I once knew so well,
and feel it now with arm s extended
as if to hug eternity.
The music that made this river
must have been magical.
With patience and understanding
it is apparent;
We will keep dreaming and dancing
and singing and laughing.
This metabolic cosmos
is fertile for galactronic sex
and novas of eye.
So let’s do this jigsaw of sound,
these mischievous jokes,
those space and light conundrums,
these relative paths,
those inside-out challenges,
these sappy emotions,
those time-warping vehicles,
these resonant mantras,
those archetypal attractors,
these invisible interfaces,
those spiral dynamics,
these flexible forms,
the enticing chaos,
the implicate order.
Breathing
a pattern
of smoke,
excitement of joy and wonder
streaks through calm air.
A tangled knot of thoughts
is pierced and evaporated by giggles.
As evanescent realizations give way,
the purpose reveals itself,
and the journey continues.
I think I am tired of devotionally creating a vast spectrum
of varying emotions that all fall under the category of
pain, sadness, realms of melancholy melodrama.
But when my vision is fogged over, I can’t even tell the
difference between tiredness and enthusiastic anticipation.
Swarms of spirits lost will
find home in your shell
if you let them.
Don’t let them.
You need clear vision to be healthy and to heal.
You help me, but I must let you go…
at least for now.
This way,
In a dimension transcending distance,
I am multitudinous perspective.
Simply complexity.
I hear the cry, but sometimes I just don’t feel like
comprehending the details of the info.
I know I must be malfunctioning.
I simply
just
want
to
die.
…y’know?…
Let me dissolve in this atomic pool of
repulsions, collisions, attractions,
fusions, fissions, reactions.
Free
geometric
bliss.
But you won’t let me die so easily.
I would like to rapture in your poetry so profound.
But you encourage me to find my own spiritual satisfaction,
my own perfekt puzzling reaction.
Tell me what you need,
a home? a challenge? a vehicle? a clue?
a toy? a project? a map? some more glue?
Do you want potent honesty?
I will amaze you with what you already knew.
I’ll join you in discovering how orgasms can be
fractal
fluid
holistic
heavy or levitating.
We can release our impatience
from densely awaiting substance,
and join in the delicate cosmos of euphoria patterns
and endlessly loving unification of interpersonal purpose.
We can sail the sexy circuits
and dive into the infinitely open core.
Cellular biology,
trigonomic ontology,
polar fluctuations,
violent relaxations,
entheogenic tickles
and nutrious circulation.
Wind, temperature, humidity and thunder,
will all sing and delicately dance in reverence of
the realization of our
temporal accumulation.
Billions of years!!
(say it: B-ILLIONS)
Billions of years.
Billions of years ago.
Billions of years from today.
And the simple still saturates our mandalic affinities.
The simple still speads over our
twisted Escher knots of confusion.
The simple, the point, the line, the triangle,
brings us back to our unbelievable riches,
where worship, reality, fabrication, fantasy, imagination,
hedonism, ecosystem, emotion, laughter and song abound,
and streams of tears evaporate in the light beyond color
of our star, the Sun.
Despite the jiving junkie desire to just relish in our
attractiveness,
I’ll communicate with you,
so we can make our babies healthy,
And open the avenues,
of true and fruitfully fabulous free-flowing happiness,
together,
blissful delight.
[I just wrote this poem, it’s a bit long.
So reading it may take a little time,
And I hope you don’t find it too corny,
It happens to be written in rhyme.]
SIMPLE SIDNEY’S SUDDEN SOMN AMBULENT SAVING
Simple Sidney said he was sad,
that he was weeping under the mask he had.
“How?!” he would ask out loud,
“How did I come come to thi s perdicament?
Have I always been surrounded by this thick cloud?
Or is it just recently my shape has been so bent?”
Poor Simple Sidney had lost his source of hope.
It used to dwell cozily in his heart,
Now it’s a challenge for him just to cope,
And a constant chore to keep from falling apart.
As lonely Simple Sidney tossed in his bed,
Dueling himself endlessly in his head,
The comfort of his blankets
wrapped around him like a cocoon,
Helped him find some security
and stop from calling himself baffoon.
Into a whirlwind ing storm of dreams he descended,
As his dramatic clenching to guilt had ended.
And in the first dreamscape he had befriended
A little dwarf deity, who in healing Sid,
proclaimed him to be mended.
Before Sidney Sidney could offer
the gnome thanks and praises,
It jumped up into the hands of a grey gentleman,
and they descended into a forest of mazes
in such quickly shifting phases,
it was a peculiar manner to say the least it
amazes.
Since dreaming Sidney suddenly felt quite alleived,
he noticed how no long er was he so peeved.
As Simple Sidney observed his new state
He realized that he held a gold-colored key.
And this key opened the doors to every fate,
And he discovered he could use it now to be free.
He had always been carrying it, whether on his head,
shoulder, in his pocket or hand;
Once he even used it to strum a guitar for band.
But for years now he used it to keep himself locked away.
Unconsciously forgetting about it, to use in a better day.
And now as he gazed at the key’s golden glow,
A tall door appeared through which he decided to go.
He inserted the key and turned it counter-clockwise,
And on the other side was a panorama of infinite eyes.
Up, down, all over and around,
Layered like cells, everywhere eyes were found.
Then Sid noticed himself again, and thought,
“I simply must be dreaming.”
But he felt so comfortable in his recently healed body,
so real it was all seeming.
“But this IS a dream!” Sidney suddenly realized.
And in that moment he felt newly materialized.
His new self-awareness
wasn’t merely a reflection of course,
But another head and pair of arms
growing from the same bodily source.
“If this is a dream, and it feels doubly
more real than time spent waking,
I wonder how far, this direction could be taking?”
Simple Sidney remembered the key which he still held
And thought what a fine object it must have be en to weld.
Sid looked around at the eyes while thinking
what else could such a craftsman create,
And in his other three hands appeared
a little engine, a flower, and an engraved silver plate.
In the moment he looked back at the eyes,
before he could even react with awe,
A thousand more his own outstretched hands,
each holding something different, he saw.
A feather, a cup, a paintbrush and an axe,
A necklace of pearls, a pipe for smoking and a candle of
wax.
A seashell, a riffle, a mushroom and a clock,
A drum, a coin, a book, and an obsidian rock.
He held a quartz crystal and herbs and potion s,
and many small computerized mechanisms
moving with various motions.
Afte r feeling these materials for a moment or two,
Sid looked again to the brick-layered eyes,
But this time they seemed to be looking at him,
as if indicating, “You.”
He felt he should respond, but all his words felt like lies.
Then from some abyss deep inside came out the sound,
“Moooo!”
It was the sound of a cow, a bovine that cries.
The sound became a light, and quickly upwards it flew.
Then the eyes seemed pleased, as if saying, ‘very wise.’
And suddenly Simple Sidney felt something quite new;
He felt himself to be a cow,
with eight nipples and hooves.
It was from so many burgers and steaks
t hat he learned how a cow mooves.
In this shape-shifting transubstantiation
He realized how sacred are all life’s relations.
The soul of his food had been released back to spirit,
And in this understanding of cycle,
he had no more need to fear it.
When Sid saw again the endless eyes gazing,
He experienced somthing quite truly amazing:
For now among the fractal eyes was he .
And realms of pure vision was what he could see.
The eyes seemed to form curved walls
of a cosmically tall tower,
The diameter of which was infinite as well.
And since every eye could see every other eye
seeing every other eye,
It allowed infinite potential of any mandala, form or
flower.
This cos metric matrix even made sound,
vibrations, taste and smell,
Along with new senses unknown to people,
Sid could even comprehend Pi.
After enjoying this outside of time perspective,
Sid found himself once again asking
his most favorite question: “How?”
“How could this be? Is it all just
a universe infinitely reflective?”
Then came a great rumbling signifying the quality, ‘N ow.’
It seemed to be coming from the bottomless abyss of this
immeasurably wide eye-jeweled structure,
Escalating in volume as if something was about to rupture.
It came speeding up from the depths faster and faster,
as if triggered by a universal ‘big bang’.
And as it grew louder and louder and closer and closer,
everything resonantly rang.
Then climbing up towards him Sid could see
Cosmically humbling serpentine waves of free energy.
Despite Sid ‘s terror he was too transfixed to flee,
Witnessing the accelerating spiraling upward
of what looked like dazzling arms of a galaxy.
As the helixing star-filled snakes
approached where Sid was situated,
A deeply condensed dark energy in all the eyes grew.
And as screaming harmonic tones
louder and louder reverberated,
The serpentine tsunamis rushes upwards by,
and catching along them Simple Sidney flew.
Now Sid was rolling among the turbulent waves of
sonically explosive light and violent colors amassing.
Like snakes as wide as a million
star systems, he rode them.
And around he could see the infinite eyes passing.
Quite soon, however, Simple Sidney noticed a logical
problem.
His rate of acceleration was accelerating in speed;
Each moment he was traveling exponentially more fast.
Interrupting his ponder a voiceless voice said,
“Oh Simple Sidney, you’re simply a seed!
The future makes this ‘Now’, not just the past.”
So Sid looked forward in the direction he was heading,
And noticed he was approaching something
from which light was shedding.
“It must be Pure Love!” thought Simple Sid,
as he basked in it’s warmth gravitational.
And as it began to grow brighter Sid grew very meditational.
But the light was becoming so brilliantly white,
It seemed the sourc e of all other light,
It’s brightness so exceedingly bright.
Sid was soon filled with a deep fright,
Especially as he thought of his infinite height.
Then the white light which Sid could not fight
Began to encompass him and envelope his sight.
It burned so hot it might as well have been freezing,
The light just kept getting brighter than bright,
it somehow felt like it was teasing.
Then there was a sureness that became poignantly pleasing.
As Sid started to dissolve into this pure illumination,
A new process began to take place,
this time without his nervous anticipation.
The light peacefully approached such infinite brightness,
that Sid was inseparable from its constant creation.
Sidney became one with the heart of cycles of the universe.
Creation and destruction in singularity merged.
Death, dance, sex and birth,
in visions beautific and perverse.
In the core of all dimensions, had Sidney now purged.
And the somewhere somewhen between forward and reverse,
Out of the singularity Simple Sidney superluminously serged.
At the faster than light speed of darkness
Sid glided out from the universe’s unity.
And into a multi-colored multi-textured
cosmos of playful plurality.
He flew by resplendent galaxies and beautiful black holes.
He flew near thriving planets populated by souls.
He saw endless advanced alien civilizations,
Moving architectural manifestations.
He came to a luminus planet of blue and green.
Immediately towards this planet he felt very keen.
He zoomed across an ocean and along a shore,
Then into a city and up to a door.
He opened the door with a nicely welded gold key,
And hovered into a room to make a discovery.
There in the blankets, on the mattress bed,
Was Simple Sidney sleeping with dreams in his head.
The next thing he knew his alarm clock went off,
And Sidney crawled out from his blankets so soft.
Let out a cough.
He breathed deeply in and the Sun he politely greeted.
For some reason, he felt like a great journey he completed.
Then noticing his spontaneous rejuvenation,
he remembered the dwarf deity from his nights dreams,
And flashes of the entire experience
passed mystically in his mind.
“That was reality and This the dream it seems,”
He said, thinking of the light that almost made him blind.
Then thinking of that healing little guru elf,
Simple Sidney thought to himself:
“Wherever there is beauty, pain or truth,
There’s where’s reality, it doesn’t take a spiritual sleuth.
As for what’s dream and awaking,
I must ponder on another day.”
And while using his key on the way out the door
He remembered and said, “Hey!
I don’t need to always be sad anymore.”
