The only directions from where i kneel are up or through the wall with nothing beyond
of course i am a lover who can’t put up a fight or say no to a smiling face with a gleen
if they do not care enough to ask intelligent questions then they just don’t care enough
where is the missing muse with her mysterious secret of inspiration and insight to the show
secrets get wet when i tell them to you in a city full of faces with the truth hidden within pyre
there are so few of you around the nights are filled with vapidly made up objects of our desire
yearning for us to charge their aether-glow you are what we are seeking and don’t yet know
please stop doing the things to me that i don’t like or ask for or know why you like the stuff
i am not what you would like me to be and the closer i get the more you become mean
throwing caution to the wind and letting the universe do their thing and then abscond
if my body had a mark or scar for each of your lies i would would be completely unrecognizable
at the end of the night when the party is over there is nobody there that really matters
who wants to share both or either of the agony of victory and or triumph in defeat
unwelcome unwelcomed and frowned upon wherever my presents takes me
i don’t go to very many places and when i do it’s almost always to be alone
everyone loves the party at the cool place with free wine and provolone
rarely do i hear what we are doing next and what’s my part going to be
very little positivity flows my way unless it’s wrapped with a complement in retreat
i do not exist to help you get what you think you want out of life and leave me in tatters
horribly bleek sounds so pleasant to and it seems that me and nothing are indistinguishable
writing the words that come from within the thoughts of my significant inner other door
the pleasant kind of insane is a true reality that can only be found after being lost in bed
one should understand and practice the laws of reason without the situational paralysis
any excuse or reason will be used to avoid thinking the essential question that is never asked
i’d discovered something close to being like love when you entered my comfortable existence
what it really was was something closer to wretched hatred wrapped in cognitive resistance
all of my good fortune comes with a fresh batch of warm tragedy and someone masked
i would rather be hated by everyone alive and dead than be loved by you is my analysis
i hate you now more than before and i sometimes wish just for you i wasn’t already dead
your inhuman soul swirls in pools reeking untruth that let you live as an emotion whore
even though there are many who know my true life identity and somewhat who i was
the static is never there that wants to know what or who is behind my bookshelves
the strings attache to your thoughtful emotions were plucked a long time ago
the stigmata you leave behind with each and every of our once kind ex-resistance
every equal and opposite reaction goes with each existence and re-existence
the dead end current of our aetherspehre flow reaches the dark un-subtrance
the danger to the pop-culture conscious nightmare is the sound of no aetherflow
the damned can’t make the pain stop even when we’re inflicting it on ourselves
every miracle that happens we receive the equally opposite reaction just because
uncommon juxtapositions of inquisitive questioning and logical emotional reasoning
experience the real with digital media and the newly perceived priori web of bright clear
responses and creative thinking are the mechanical flows of your mindful thought processes
those have my favor who come with no mind games and their laughter doesn’t make me cringe
everything i want i know i can’t have so why dare to hope or even give it a little more trying
i give and give and give and receive little more than scraps and sometimes something to singe
the expectation of good and happy have all but disappeared along with emotional regresses
they’ve been replaced with the harshest reality filled with avoidance that comes with fear
unpostive predipositional bias is turning neutral and followed by negative and damaging
please don’t drop your hanky with me because i’ll never bend over willingly but you can trick me
they never want to know each other and are content with one more trip through my pants
happiness doesn’t come in a pill though sometimes is sure feels that groovy way too
the uninquisitive mind will tell you what you need to wake up every day and go
our five basic senses are just the beginning of your total perceptive abilities
beware of the most dangerous drug of all as the little red love pill from enemies
one needs to first understand and then learn how to develop and optimize the flow
easier fun and faster freedom does not come naturally as you think free-will will do
Plato’s forms of super dark symmetry over deceptions of dimensional possibilities of Kant’s
once you combine them in a correlative visualization with the five branches of philosophy
Shinto’s believe that a he at 42 and she at 33 should be in contact with a knightly adviser
if indeed energy can not be created but only transformed and hopefully transmogrified
energy flow is my specialty in both formal and informal applications in all types of offices
then how is it possible that everything is not always regenerated and reincarnated ?
the pathologically clinical tend to seperate the mind-body-thought-emotion connection
reason can be used to justify untruth just as a truth can be assigned to any reason
then could it be that god is that which is not able to regenerate or be reincarnated ?
the body is not a closed looped system while neither is the mind and both have wet orifices
when you have an internal conversation to a question with whom are you trying to decide
quality relationships work because the totality of inductive reasoning is trying to be wiser
when you blend the five basic senses of sight-touch-sound-taste-smell it’s called synestesia
the ability manipulate your free will is relative to media programs and the real microscopic
one of the most intimate things people can do is enjoy writing rhyming poetry together
the science of logical entropy flow from the aethersphere through your undervest
a single correlation does not cause causation to cut the dominate paradigm old
people are quarks and so are colors each of them composed with an r-g-b code
i may invite you into my bed but that is just the physical part of the whole aethertest
the intimate play becomes reality when you’re welcomed to stay in the head of my other
to hold a valid opinion one has to cite 10 positive and objective observations about the topic
i love it when you cry for the right reasons and the tears are made by writing with dacraphilia
reason and excuses are simple to conjure and any which one will work and they’re all a cliche’
whoring or working hard is not the best answer but you only learned one of the two
tragic and triumph are always mixed together in the same cup when you are serving
since you everyone can not see me except for the big losses and constant downers
since you starved me until offering a delivery as the only thing on my cracked plate
since you i’ve not been a part of a group that had anything to do but laugh at hate
since you bring me into your world with the nurturing hands then change the offers
when i say yes and then take a seat i am delivered more of the same and agonizing
in my book of dreams the chapter of agonizing nightmares is all about those like you
please don’t ask me to go on your trip just so you have something to torture along the way
dueling in the dark with shadows and the empty differences surfacing every time
saying i’m sorry doesn’t help or tun back the clock even though that’s your only trick
rushing to judgment creates mindbody stress and the world is full of gleening manipulaors
constantly changing positions and decisions that increases relational stress and all tension
broken severely inside and out we are ending with everything tattered repaired and well worn
the whisping actions in my stream come with a dose of passionate passive aggressions to adorn
we pitched in and created for you a casket of cardboard taped together with your pretension
please go dig your grave and there is a legion of fallen angels waiting to stop and be violators
the unsettling feeling you get with me around is your senses sensing the walking dead prick
moments are dismal seconds agonizing hours and terrifying days are treacherously fine.
dead beat poet 