Bad Friend Experience

You boo when there is a supoprtive cheer
you smile and nod nicely to my face
you pleasantly disagree with things dear
you bet against me and then rig the race
you grin but when i’m not looking it’s a sneer.

You laugh when i stumble with persistance
you frown when i am happy and succeed
you clap for long uncomfortable silence
you give bad advise when there is no need
I can’t stand the ‘Your Friend’ experience.

Dualistic Dynamic Duo

Sometimes i feel like the logical Mr. Spock
sometimes i’m like Captain James T. Kirk
a calibrated clock, does more than go tick tock
Relativistic synergy is part of the cirque.

Sometimes i feel like Gilligan the first mate
sometimes i’m like the Skipper in charge of you
governing operational dynamics, aren’t ever late
Aetherspheric navigation with a smart & small crew.

Sometimes i feel like the mysterious Mr. Roark
sometimes i’m like the vanishing little lost Tattoo
to get what you want now, give it some more torque
Quantumetric differences bond both me and you.

                                         

Crooked Clarity Compass

Social fabrication is denial
commitment to what is reality
vision creates a cognitive fusion
knowledge comes from dualistic da da
the crooked compass shows us the right way
open to what is next and not their next
blur is an example of time travel
three components make relativity
declaration of what is and isn’t
clarity eliminates neg bias.

Mirror Self Convection

Mirroring all people is what we do

you are what you do see and want to be

smile begets smile frown begets frown

people become what they see on t.v.

pervasive paradigm paralysis

there is only reflection of your self

the deck is stacked against your consciousness

your free will is only partially real

we are attracted to what we want now

aetherspheric cerebral convection.

Floating Time Vortex


Imagine you were born and raised on a big fancy floating dome
destined to live a long happy life and never yearn to see the shore
the Pacific ocean vortex is where you have always called home
your dome-ship is drifting with everything you could want or adore
born with a time-age-dilation and everyone wants to have your clone.

When alone you don’t age one little bit and in essence time does stop like Zen
when in the visual company of others you age slowly but very exponentially
the more people you can see the faster you age and that can see you is x 10
going to a ball game with a few friends would age you a week for being sociably
catching a home-run or for some other reason being on national t.v. would do you in.

Whenever you wish for something new or exotic to taste – smell – feel – hear and see
all of your desires are provided for as long as it doesn’t include drifting near sand
a ship arrives silently the very next day with everything including your favorite party
your guests are dazzled by your worldly brilliance and envy your luxurious life span
they are baffled that you’re content aging alone and get by by having fun and being arty.

You give the tour and explain every inch of the dome-home that was built to perpetually sift
there is only one part of the boat you don’t understand and gave up trying along time ago
the emergency navigation system is there in case for some reason you drift to close to the rift
it can weather any storm but usually avoids them with the precognitive advance slip stream
it will propel you back to where you began to once again begin a long trip with the vortex drift.

For as long as you can remember the emergency navigation system has been activated twice
once when you were too young to understand what was going on but remember it well anyway
the other not long ago and the feelings still linger of calling the big bluff and roll the shore dice
you’ve been preparing for this your whole life but wasn’t quite sure the direction to swim away
you often feel the shoreline is just out of sight and took the risk to swim to the horizon thrice.

When the party’s over everyone leaves with the supply ship and they never return again
a new group of people will arrive the next time to provide your material necessities
there’s always a person you wish could stay longer just to share in one little sin
when that happens the dome begins to drift towards the time vortex with ease
there is no purpose when you are always alone and perpetually at begin.

Your one true wish is to be able to swim beyond the distant horizon
you exchanged it for a cerebral transubstantiation aging dilation
in your world you need not and are the ruler of an entire ocean.

Blinded Wow Love

bluelip

A blind woman with a blinded love
in a blind land wishing for a real man
one who will give her a life from above
the one who will hold her light and stand.

This secret wish is another secret worth telling
unhappiness is lost where hearts have to search
a hidden place from a sad heart that’s high flying
to the place where you can even follow and perch.

In what place will I not become a predator of my self
long-time since never checking in n’ write this once forgot
was surprised and amazed that someone reads from a shelf
join in the jumping because the happy joy mode is on the slot.

More amazed to read invitations that follow when we sneak on in
WWWWWWWOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW what a wonder to behold
four thumbs up 4 an average OOOPS then fall down and hahaha again
there is someone missing me or recently using my media to write and old.

She wants to be fair to both of them by meaning what she says with her ad
here she is ready to write and share her feelings with everyone once again
get set peeps and tighten yo seat belt coz Ninoy’s gonna make u mad
bunches of loves she has to offer us with lotsa fun and pretend sin.

She knows her real problems and she knows her unreal fears
it’s true but hold on tight and don’t you ever want to quit
she knows that her sorrows are lost in her wet tears
it’s true that she doesn’t know how to hard hit.

To tell you the simple truth without the loss
the Universe knows more than anybody
she comes to wipe it away like floss
doing it right and having it ready.

It’s done as soon as it can be
which no end to tomorrows
mourn the comfort too see
burdens and our sorrows.

They Never Give Us Control

They never say a single nice thing

they are always pleasant when there’s pay

they never really do much of anything

they know you know what’s the say.

——————-

Never really never happens that way

never procrastinate until maybe tomorrow

never say never is what they never say

never say i love you without the sweet sorrow.

——————-

Give is what you never want to be or do

give is how you become a social misfit

give is what you’ll never need to pursue

give more nothing and that’s what you’ll get.

——————-

Us is what we only pretended we’d live

us is what we’ll never thankfully be

us is what we’ll never forget not to forgive

us will never include little lost me.

——————-

Control is what you know you see

control is what you want to need

control is what you want to give me

control how much you want me to bleed.

Volatilizingly Dripping Moon

Frankie feels the impulse to howl like a coyote under the desert moon
spill into me your flavourful madness that begins with a long sip
the whole her is there with much to be discovered too soon
still truckin’ on this long and strange and blissful trip
your drama tastes like blueberry flavoured doom.

Overflow your cup to taste what you can’t see
your good karma has wet my lips for much more
the magnificent moon twice murdered the sun sunny
taste and die a dancing heart behind the dark black door
my dharmic eyes are elevated to see what you too could be.

Covered in good things lips slightly move when they almost sing
take what is given to you and lose a soul to once again save
put them in your pocket with no need for any unlocking
dancing in circles and squares to an aethersphere rave
dreamland will find you when you stop up looking.

Find the one who covers their eyes with the sun
intense roads to the kingdom have been solidly built
the theatre is overflowing and you have choices of none
drizzed in your sweetness i’ll devour you without much guilt
time to stop the show and reveal that your true voice is the one.

Red pens dipping in the mud being depicted only abstractively
writing songs with dripping blood and perfect admiration
volatilizingly this peace child’s compass spins insanely
live a life with the lack of bewitching compensation
how well do you want to be portrayed accurately?

Sassy Shackled Ankels

This world of social engineering is painfully engaging
the cup seems dried with dregs of vacant bitterness
voices sewn shut and stained cheeks with tearing
let the crowd stick to oval holes of emptiness
a blind mole-like mentality blindly hurting.

Sweeter than you think of a unique visionary
blazing forests don’t follow the damp leader
cane flailings dance with a lacklustre morality
feelings come deeper and swim with a sinker
embrace the differently downtrodden eternally.

The moments you touch with reaching velvet silken hands
hidden places aching that only you can make ache that way
the omega love/lust connection is fraught with hour sands
bruising kisses of the evening hardness then soft by day
feeding addictions of desire with mutually planned plans.

Meeting the needs in between that of want and strife
there’s a razor thin line between sweetened and sweet
hair pulling passion with a lie we both share in rife
committed and adulterous while still in mourning to meet
being entwined in a perfect union with a lover of life.

Shackled ankles are always ready to be slightly unbound
baking cookies in negligee and silk scarves flowing
be sweet and rough and change my face to being unfrowned
transparency in a flawed interlude of internal glowing
tongue twisted lips tied to your singing sultry sound.

A modicum of “difference” makes you more understanding
a prescience believed singing and shouting it out loud
a really lived beatitude life of raw nude existing
a cloud of your conscience seeing the facebook crowd
a quirky chaser brazenly defiant in the act of living.

The broken and battered are a kindred disjointed folk
just like being there the yokes of a never-ending pain
years of tears peppered with split seconds of pseudo hope
flowing syllabic evolutions are going to once again regain
who knows but for now just write while you continue to choke.

Knowing that perhaps the best work is laying latent
kicking rocks is gone forever replaced with shallow breath
take a sick pleasure in knowing that few get my intent
see me like they used to before my poetic birth and death
lurking in the locked box with stripped poems of discontent.

Square pegs shining in a semi-final round of proclivity
prelude to alliterative experience of intimate assonance
dancing with words one at a time or maybe up to twenty
plenty of rhetoric spewed with silent cognitive dissonance
words take on a life of their own with each one worth a penny.

A visage is smeared in the angst of tumultuous torrent
heckled profusely for being hated and once again shamed
no one cares and they can’t see the trees or the forest
adoration of writing their way out of ever being gamed
the things you’re beaten for are usually your favourite.

Transmogrification of three poems by Amy Gabrial
http://sassifiable.com/

Pharmacide; Philosophy : Art : Physics
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/43344

i Never Wish

i wish that i had cheated,
i wish that i had often lied,
i wish i had the realisation,
your soul had long ago died.

i wish that i had left sooner,
i wish that i had quickly run,
i wish i had the realisation,
being with you was no fun.

i wish i could forget your face,
i wish i could forget your voice,
i wish i had the ability,
to turn back time and make another choice.

i wish i wasn’t shattered
i wish i wasn’t broken
i wish that when my parents met,
never a word was spoken.

i wish there was faith,
i wish there was belief,
i wish i could remember,
the feeling of pleasant relief.

i wish sometimes it all would end,
i wish sometimes i couldn’t stop
i wish sometimes to take my eyes,
off of the distant mountain top.

i wish i couldn’t understand,
i wish i could just give up,
i wish someone would hold my hand,
who wasn’t pushing me down.

Pharmacide: free download available
http://www.smashwords.com/booksview/43344

Picasso’s Dead Friend

Self Portrait,
1901, Oil on Canvas
Musée Picasso, Paris

In nineteen oh one The Picasso began a life shaded in a dark pale blue
although it is well known the tragedy around this pivotal period bemused
like everything else out there, there are sides to a story at least two
his friend suicided in a Parisian café over a love in which he was refused
this had a great impact on his art and you might even say haunted him too.

La Vie
1903: Oil on Panel
Cleveland Museum of Art

He was a mega narcissist and that didn’t come with his talented hands
also kind of a schmuck by regarding most people with a cold indifference
his poor treatment of great women was more legendary than his art plans
what was it about his past that made him a jerk and sometimes so relentless
his mirror image was that a fighting bull and in the ring as the matador stands.

The Death of Casagemas
1901: Oil on Panel
Musée Picasso, Paris

The ghost of his friend would return in paint again and again and again
he used painfully joyous colours freely at the death of his once good friend
the evocation came and the guilt put to rest with the burial of his shame
pale blue and dark green paint conveying the feelings of the lost and sinned
lonely and restless with guilt he sought comfort in the arms of someone Germain.

Frugal Repast,
1904 Etching

 

Always moving between places to stay he was there when she needed him fast
painting the desolation, unhappiness and despair are all he could display
the misery of being physically weak and poorly eating with a frugal repast
the allegory of La Vie had the face of his dead friend in a monochomed way
his dead friend’s girlfriend was there and for him she would do for some ass.

The Burial of Casagemas (Evocation), 1901 Oil on Canvas
Musée d’Art Modern, Paris

He moved into his dead friend’s flat after the burial to begin living rent free
maybe he didn’t pull the trigger but it’s entirely possible he was gaslighting
the overpowering guilt he must have felt with this terrible truth kept secretly
shagging his dead friend’s girl around the time of his death and his own emerging
he recalls this with the three dancers of love, sex and death in a Dionysian frenzy.

Running Fire Water

Mara is da girl dat is soon gonna be very merry
a self-proclaimed dork who doesn’t play kid games
and doesn’t take crap from anyone ordinarily
a happy drama free life to her from me i proclaim
they nay say while i’ll love her till death you’ll see.

She’s going to school and doin’ it the right hard way
her trusted friends tell her she can be kind of a bitch
going to seek scholastic identity to do what she’ll say
getting maddened up she’s my favourite sexy goth witch
my unique ability to love is hers every night and day.

She’s like running fire and i’m like water flickering
sometimes she burns me up and others i dowse her out
when the mixtures are right we atomize something amazing
she a best friend and with me will never do without
there’s nothing normal bout how we’re relating.



Let’s Meet

I can tell you things that you’ve never heard,
and show you things you’ve never seen.
What is it that you do,
from which I may gleen?

We can meet for lunch,
or maybe tea.
You can tell me about you,
and then about me.

It’s not sex I want,
or be friends with benefits either.
It’s an exchange of ideas,
over a pint or a liter.

You tell me yours,
I’ll tell you mine.
If the energy is right,
together they will shine.

Feast Alone

Your relentless lust persists to resist,
words of encouragement are what’s in need.
They expect me to die by my slitting my wrists,
I know they are betting and smoking weed.

I’m mis-understood and under-estimated too,
I doubt this will change not even with you.
There is nothing you or anyone can do,
you can follow me down and never return too.

I do not think you will make it back home,
when I get what I need and hold you down.
It’s time to feast and I like to eat alone,
behind the Black Door in the dark part of town.

Elly Cox

Elly calls her computer names,
because she can’t fall asleep.
Probably waiting for Jeff Buckley,
to sing her off of her feet.

Her info is full of bright range,
I’m so very pleased to see that.
She thinks she is so very strange,
looks nothing like a big ding bat.

I think you should use “Peanut Brittle”,
then take yourself out of your box.
If I can give you one bit of advise,
don’t name your son Richard Cox.

Naturally Evil Friend

You are naturally evil,
no special effort required.
If I lie even a little I die,
and may my jaw be wired.

The things you do and say,
are done with selfish intention.
The victories you now claim as your own,
were all of my invention.

Your every little step forward,
is standing on the foot of a friend.
Little do your new friends know,
befriending you is the beginning of their end.

 

 

Exquisit Muse Visit

I’ve never had a muse like this before,
it feels quite nice I must admit.
Feeling inspired to write the words,
because there you swimingly sit.

You are flying here soon to see me,
because of this I’m feeling distraught.
I’m ashamed of my life or lack there of,
and what I have and haven’t even got.

I wonder what it is you think of me,
to warrant such an undeserved visit.
I can’t imagine meaning that much,
to someone and being well worth it.

The life I lead is void of one another,
and spent alone 4 days of four.
I’ve never been in this much pain,
except for yesterday and the days before.

When I dream of what you’ll expect,
it conjures up all my darkest fears.
It seems as if I have nothing to offer,
but all night talks with eyes full of tears.

There is no fun kind of sin left,
alone and locked behind the black door.
There once was a time with things,
but that time is no longer more.

It’s been years since I’ve owned a bed,
or wanted one to make and share.
The thought of ever having another,
is way to much to want or dare.

The daily grinding moments of pain,
that exists between the ticks and tocks.
Sometimes I feel as if they’ll stop,
whenever I look directly at the clocks.

I’m really just a dead beat poet,
rejected by all of my peers.
On the surface everyone smiles,
but underneath are only jeers.

I’m the one that everyone,
likes to know from a distant afar.
Don’t get too close they all say,
as they keep their closed minds ajar.

My existence is rather something,
I wouldn’t call it a livable life.
It’s more like a bad joke or add,
selling struggle and constant strife.

Every breath I begrudgingly take,
is full of hopeless and wanton dread.
The countdown has started from here,
when it stops one of me will be dead.

 

Chaos Transrapid Thermoglyding

Chaos and consciousness go hand in unhand,
what’s the matter are you afraid of foreign truth?
There is nothing open that is left to not understand,
do you knot think when there is something to sleuth?

There is no honor when you can fib away like a manwhore,
hi nice to meet you now give them what i’ve got and now go away.
Be nice just long enough just to get what they need and hopefully more,
superficial is superficial does shaking their heads no while doing it my way.

Thermogliding the aethersphere with little interest in the world as it is a bore,
everyone has a skewed and curved perspective like everything in the Multiverse.
I could be wrong but i’m starting to feel like nothing more than a little friend whore.
excuse without reason is like fall without season in the mirror is where you rehearse.

The misery you imagined experienced by others can not be compared to your pseudo reality.
why the feelings we always suspect and rarely ever beyond their empty viciousness brotherhood.
What’s not displayed by words thoughts and opinions show up with inaction and always subtlety,
E equals m c squared becomes beautiful indeed getting close to being self-sub consciously understood.

The bell tolls for everyone whether they hear it or not so does it curve along with spacetime in the aether,
that what is real is different than you think which will cause cognitive dissonance because you don’t believe.
Unexplained connections that come with a warming glance and cooling will to comply somewhere neither,
the chances of anything happening between one thing and another is less than one and more than you deceive.

i really don’t know how to identify friend or foe and it’s usually the wrong choice i choose them and they choose me,
let me do your talking for you and singing your praise as you secretly despise my ability to attract and effortlessly raise.
Bitter and hostile seem par for the course in society based rent size and deeds to those that aren’t what they claim to be.
they forget sometimes it’s those around them who give what they need sometimes without ever receive thanks or praise.

There was a time my head was held high now condescension and insults pelt my skin speckled with fibs & sideways grins.
being sent out to fight the battles for them but having nobody there to help dress down the wounds when the battle is over.
There is no laughing and it’s good friend humor when our lives become controlled by innuendo and rumor of our dark sins,
when the time creeps noticeably slowly the track is slowing down and it seems like a lane change may be the thing to order.

The truth seems to be too much to ask for at times with the cousins excuses and reasons showing up instead,
probabilistic rhythms of this thing we call life can be seen in other dimensions of a mirror that doesn’t reflect.
While shaking our hands you are slapping in the face with your false reasons and two-bit excuses in bed,
being ignored by those you like is the most hurtful feeling of all and insincerity isn’t that hard to detect.

Whatever doesn’t drive us forever apart together will sometimes lead to passive aggressive malice,
I would like you to meet two of my very good friends their names are usually Empty and Vapid.
Without any questions the ass:u:me rule blends to the wrong way of drinking from our chalice.
they are afraid of saying or doing something wrong they choose instead to ignore it transrapid.

When questions that are given again go unanswered they are rarely if ever again asked.
multi-feelings can be felt at the same time in the organic space of our too and fro’s.
i’m not your assumption any way for the emptiness is alone inside a sphere of vast.
Can you imagine a life without love from family or friends but plenty from foes.

This is what is meant by ‘living in a vacuum and running out of air folklore,
we are made up of star light with i being the center of the rounded squares.
I am all but your reality whore the one you hate that you love to adore,
where the application of general relativity leads to sticking up hairs.

Being useful consistently for the benefit and group of us brothers,
always giving encouragement and taking whatever is on the rack.
It’s like clapping with one hand while slapping with the others,
because when I face the sun his smile is shining on my back.

12 ‘I Wonders’

I wonder what you think of me,
sometimes when I think of you.
I wonder how you’ll tend to be,
when I do what you ask me to.
I wonder how I’ll want you when,
putting everything in whatever I do.
I wonder how many smiles I’ll get,
when we blend and make them new.

I wonder if this cute fantasy is a little silly,
reality is really much deeper stark.
I wonder what you would really think,
standing next to me in the well lighted dark.
I wonder if everything will ever be perfect or right,
if life had a gear mine would be the red one in Park.
I wonder how long it will take for the bubble to burst,
with the thirst for the night your own fountain landmark.

I wonder if I wrote to in Italian,
would it come back to me ?
l wonder if I climbed up a to a tree top,
how high would I have to be,
before you told me to come back and stop.
I wonder what’s out there in the Aethersphere,
influencing everything we do think and see.
I wonder if the worlds we already know,
will reveal to us what we are intended to be.