Infinite Mobius Feelings

 The lovey dovey period expands

please do that swirl thing that you love to do

emotional proximation convects

soul is measured in countable packets

when i hear you cry it’s for a reason

never knowing what the whole story is

infinite loop of mobius feelings

looks being unexpectedly captured

spooning and sleeping in the R.E.M.

everyone is beautiful in our dreams.

Fallatiotic Red Vixen

Tiffany was a red headed nymphette seventy two inches tall
practising law by day and a fallatiotic dancing vixen by night
her hair was bright red all over and yes i mean bare and all
i never knew her very well but she blew me with mighty might.

She loved to blow me everywhere there was a chance of getting caught
spending more time with my thing in her mouth than actually talking
any partially private public space is what she constantly sought
trips with me at the wheel just so she could play while i was driving
alarmless elevators and bathroom stalls is what she found especially hot.

It was as if she had a deadly disease with little time left to find another cure
the only antidote that worked was my stuff administered daily as a face cream
this was a whirlwind sexual thing and once she was cured was gone forever
we never copulated but she loved my fingers while doing her favourite thing.

Looking back and remembering this little tryst, it’s always with a smile
although it has crossed my mind that the whole time i was being used
thinking of all the instances she would gulp and run after a short while
with the taste of a new seaman still on her lips that was recently spewed
was she secretly running to a mate to french kiss him or her with my bile?

She loved my taste so much that she always said ahhhhaaaa and thank you
sometimes pretending it was a paintbrush and her face a painting to be
every time i see a new fiery beauty the engram can’t help but renew
what she might look like with her red eyelashes glistening with me.

Favorite Dish Wish

I give into sin with everything within,
I find myself alone again once and for all freely.
Fascination for everything you grew times ten,
when you came to me so helplessly.

I don’t know what sound you are,
please tune it to the top fun.
I’ll dance with you alone under a star,
until the break of dawn.

I really don’t love you but like is not the word,
you will lose control and have to stay.
With my hands on your flesh time will fly like a bird.
my persuasive ways are beyond what they say.

With you on top there’s nothing else on stage,
you can’t escape if there is no barrier.
i’m like a virus of pleasure and rage,
you are the willing carrier.

Take everything off there is no need to deal,
you are about to be granted a wish.
It’s my wish too for our very next meal,
and you are my favorite dish.

Door Sex

i need you right now,
it’s really not my choice.
You take me there,
with the look of your voice.

Behind the black door,
i’ll do my best.
To make you feel better,
than all of the rest.

Strap up your back,
put up your feet.
As the lights go down,
i’ll turn up the heat.

 

Just Let Go the Blue

She sucked in her teeth and grabbed her bag,
followed me out to the car to go all of the way,
commenting on how she thought me as being a fag,
I never told her anything because it’s my birthday,
for my present she bosses me around with a gag.

She had on her shoulders a young good head,
putting out for me not needed but she wanted to,
cozening up to me instead of a you is all she said,
plenty of other Sweet Boy fish in the ocean blue,
I too know how to make ghosts disappear dead.

I watched you sipping sideways sitting at the bar,
you were something like me and just couldn’t see it,
short neat hair and deep set eyes brooding from afar,
that made women look and do more than they admit,
hoping they are mistaken and act like a porn star.

Inside the club the dimmed down lights were velvet red,
everything happens more quickly than you expected it to,
lock the doors and stand guard then fill your guns with lead,
it doesn’t matter running ahead while warning what to do,
can’t order out for the time and place once we have fled.

The camera blocks all front shots of the hands and faces,
send them running back where standard intimidation belongs,
some stare at us instead refusing to hide in the dark places,
you saw me and didn’t turn away with rights and wrongs,
you weren’t alone on the dance floor looking for traces.

Standing protectively in the V of your bare slim elegant legs,
when it reaches your mouth it starts off low like a burning growl,
shifting your arms tighter you saw me knowing that she begs,
when burning hits your throught it gets louder like a howl,
arms wound around my neck pulling against the dregs.

The sound of fingers being pried one by one off a rock,
coming loose from the gut with burning and ripping pain,
a stuck-coming-loose-sound from my trembling inside clock,
you body wrenching loosely shaking and coming in vein,
the bureau speakers sing the sounds of my wet jock.

With sounds heard coming from labor rooms the house is shaking,
this ass-kicking world expects to be trembling with you my only goal,
it’s me trembling now and free falling arms out like a bird and stretching,
swimming away from the surface towards the bottom of the blue hole,
what’s coming next is darker still with my bluedark shadow following.

The cave hole narrows as we swim toward the blue brightness,
you get there first and turn and wave to me to stroke your breast,
kicking freestyle through the swell of the water and its blue deepness,
I still feel you everywhere when you’ve disappeared like the rest,
your laugh is inside my every molecule making me act clueless.

When I come with you there every part of my body is slack,
the shaking over and done with I can now hear your breathing,
feeling the life drumming underneath I let myself think and fall back,
placing your heart over my chest and sway with the sheathing,
without thinking or trying you inhaled and made me your snack.

Transmogrified from a short story by Helen Klonaris

Bitter-Sweet Dreams and Jokes

If this is foreplay it’s my very first time,
i really don’t know what i am doing,
my subconscious is guiding the way,
about what to write and keep spewing.

my sub is who you really want to know,
patterns of behavior are very revealing,
looking at mine you’ll see static and fuzz,
the real behind the rhyme is rapidly declining.

everyone rarely gives more than their song,
when they do it’s only the extra script scraps,
this has been going on for so very too long,
constantly running below empty and hitting all the traps.

they have been crawling and pleading at my fleet since i was little 15,
i’ve never learned how or why it’s necessary to try too hard and pursue,
getting hotter is unwanted because my life is a grueling nightmarish dream,
what is the use if at the very end for me are only your two kinds of screw.

there is no time or energy to give because there is nothing left to lose or risk,
where ever i go havoc quickly follows by doing nothing but being my good self,
taking requests with reckless abandon with nobody watching out for my big six,
training day is over with the final approaching and i’m on a loosing streak delph.

my near future is dismal and bleek like this longer than you can surmise,
when i think of coming close it makes me whence shutter and spew,
being the object of someones eyes has always led to my rapid demise,
this is all about me with the damon and nothing much to do with you.

dreams and jokes left long ago and were replaced with pain and denial,
my scars shine brightly for all to see so they can aim for the target clearly,
pasting is a ghost i can clearly see much more than every once in a while,
the sweetness you sense is bitter-sweet at best and delicious & austerely.

i am an expert at not getting off,
have five years of sea time to prove it,
my mind controls body and won’t let you doff,
this beginning banter has certainly begun to move it.

 




10,000 Volt Thighs

I love it when it hurts,
especially when it’s for you.
Like a 10,000 jolt of megahertz,
together we will aetherial dew.
Up and then down into the flirtz,
like you need me I need you too.

Dancing till dawn even when we sleep,
we don’t even need a place to go.
Tell me what I need to know too reep,
if they are truth or lies I’m in it for the show.
A surprise from me to you skimming the deep,
a precious reprise of your melted snow.

When the hour is high with my squinted eyes,
I can finally hear the silence stop.
The time is crawling closer as you realize,
with darkness nearing my favorite spot.
The voltage is in between the lace thighs,
in my 13th dimension you’re nothing but hot.

 

Sweetening Etherscape

I want to say I love you again please,
while on my hands and knees.
That’s the way you like to appease,
shout for it softly with a pretty tease.

Tell me how it feels this evening,
the surface is often and rightfully deceiving.
You’re seeking something extremely pleasing,
what you get is always deserving.

When you ride in the etherscape,
there is never a way or need to fake.
The only me you will ever rate,
is in your dream just before wake.

 

Broken Halo Nest

 

i know you’re there lurking and low,
waiting for me in the moon glow.

Take my hand, go to the floor,
walk through my black door.

The floor is long and a wooden sea,
into my arms that are empty as can be.

i’m not afraid anymore of what’s in store,
in the dark is where i’ll be waiting for more.

There is a dance floor and very much more,
and yes even maybe there will be mating.

A nest broken halos i lay at your feet,
along with myself seeking a sweet treat.

Take me i’m yours for you to do with.
whatever it is you desire or wish.


Spoken and Spelled

There is a New Life stepping still on the shady streets,
we watched everyone around turn into a stranger,
you think you only know me when you turn on the lights,
now the red room is darkly lit with our real danger.

Our newness is complicated & circulating in an operated & generated life,
transitioning to another place so our time here will pass more slowly,
like a film i’ve never seen show me your hidden face as if it were out of sight,
features fuse together and your shadow’s a thick dark red glowely.

The road leading to nowhere is long with a stranger behind the door,
standing still stepping on the shady streets and becoming another stranger,
before the nowhere questions are answered the same is something different,
you only know me when you think to turn on the lights and now i’m your red danger.

There are new sounds all around and you can feel it getting too hot,
I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead like right now and that will never stop,
turn away the new day just for me and you dancing on the radio,
wipe away the tears from last night and say that you have to go.

We know where you go but don’t want to know why you lie,
it feels too right knowing that we’ll be dancing with you all the time,
you say that it’s from above and we say this is modern cry,
meet me again in the back street to say goodbye and commit a crime.

Do you ever get that feeling that your head is reeling with you in control,
you now now me and know that i can move and soothe you without a bed,
like Puppets we can take our places in different ways you won’t understand,
with you in control i will be your operator while we share the same head.

Watch your actions close the reactions with everything you’re thinking,
conversation about my creation has nothing to do with you unless i said,
you now know the consequences of the things you say and tried doing,
things you tried to do and all the words that melted before they were said,
only part of us is starting and you can no longer stop me from being.

You don’t understand that this is a demand for a twink show,
look inside and try to go for a ride through the day and night,
getting to know where Boys meet and get together for a blow,
don’t Say forever or the word no and run away if you stray right,
when you Go close a door the end is the same as our tomorrow,
rain pain and sorrow are surly part of the all boys high flight.

The picture we saw of you playing the part you are,
sometimes we wonder if you’re really taking a chance,
a thousand watts inside you taking this life way too far,
this ain’t Nodisco and you don’t know how to dance,

Move me to a disco and don’t let go of part one,
act like everyone is pretending and this is a story,
reaching the end always makes everyone happy,
when you’re taking a chance you feel a little whory.

Watching you walking the streets sometimes,
at midnight we can feel you in the air gritty,
looking good we know you like rhymes,
all the time we understood you so pretty.

Everybody seems to look your way now,
hey they want to know What’s Your Name,
feeling just right tonight and with a wow,
hey we get together for a night of the same.

We can go together but never know,
the nights together we can stand,
the things we need to show.

A white house with a white room and the program of today,
maps represent you and the tape is your voice following along,
turn the lights on by flicking a switch when your eyes are far away,
you recognize the choice till i take Photographic pictures with song.

Bright lights in a dark room are needed to write a letter,
never take the time to look for the day to mesmerize the light,
years were spent just thinking of a moment we both knew,
a second you just for me seems too bad to be true or quite right.

They were raining from the sky and exploding in my heart,
from the skies you can hear them cry about our Tora,
i had a nightmare only yesterday and you played the skeleton
in the town they were going down to find a Tora,
is this a love in disguise or just a form of modern art,
in the town they were going down to bury a Tora,
you took my love and died that day while i played the American.

The Big Muff of silence remembered all the shadows and our doubts,
vivid blank pictures in our film are like standing next to an empty wall,
still nights are a small affair with relapses of closing the nightclub door,
when you speak we watch you move away and always seem to fall.

She is hoping to forget the moment and almost slips away,
we need to change the words we are liking and reading,
when the colours move apart Any Second Now you’ll want to stay,
as you touch my hand understand this message is a warning.

When I’m with you baby we must go out of our head,
we Just Can’t Get Enough of getting enough of you,
all of the things you do to me and everything you said,
we slip and slide as we fall in love with the things we do.

We walk together as we’re walking down the street,
we just can’t get enough of getting enough of you,
every time we think of you we know we have to meet,
it’s getting hotter with burning love and morning dew.

When it rains pain you’re shining down for me,
we just can’t get enough of getting enough of you,
just like a rainbow you know you set my fire free,
you taste like an angel while giving me your love true.

The film was broken when the man switched the light,
night fused with tomorrow dancing with a distant friend,
filming and screening the picture of our scene at twilight,
Dreaming and filming about something we can transcend.

We left understanding so cleancut we’re sounding fast,
quickly remember and fuse then see a face before the fall,
talking of sad war we laughed and climbed the rising cast,
timing the reason with understanding of the association hall.

Shouts from the factory are running secretly through my head,
like the blood-wine in the darkroom scene of a past reunion,
ringing you on the telephone silently as if you were dead,
from a cracked window resurrect the feeling of submission.

A seven year long letter has been composed as tall as a tree,
like the city and air we breathe while reading the wall of emissions,
recall dancing like children before meeting our feat of efficiency,
the Ice Machine stood before me once again with her face full of visions.

Like the girl on TV she was trying to act silent and knowing when to say,
wishing for a moment that we can see ourselves staring into the night.
your picture in my room leads me to write a new set of lines every day,
break away and understand tonight i need your hand until we’ve got it right.

Carefully Shout while watching and waiting standing upon the backs of streets,
we started to play by screaming louder as the curtains fell between us in a twisted way,
staring into the night with a picture in my room that in between reveals her fine beats,
placing questions in the minutes of a game we won so long ago and want to stay,
beautifully dangerous the radio transmissions are known to be full of deceits,
never run away or try to stay because you belong with me as your prey.

 

Transmogrified from ‘Speak and Spell’ by Depeche Mode

Wanton Cerebral Abandoning

Nice is relative to what your expectations see,
if liking emptiness you’re going to love my sound,
a recent past path is paved with so much of nice,
being pushed empty with nothing else to be found.

You have cracked open my solid black door of isolation,
.     the triple chain stop-locks are still securely attached,
the limited perspective of my slanted visual observation,
indicates your physicalsphere is more than finely detached.

no need to rush the bodies because our minds have begun casually mating,
.                efforts made to hurt another are completely alien to either of me,
affliction of emotion should only occur if it is facilitated + consenualizing,
thoughts of soft touching bring real winces of personal agony.

We have already shared cerebral intimacy without ever being alone,
our subconscious minds have bugan the prance to start the holler,
there is no way to displace my vision with another moan on loan,
start with pleasant pleading and or paying at least one-dollar.

The only stabbing you’ll ever drink from my dripping stein,
will come with pleasant pleading while laying on your back,
this is not offered freely nor for you to choose the time,
anticipating the remembrance of sharing the mind track.

The dacriphiliac inside only feeds on wantonly crying,
when it is pleading for more of what’s on the inside.
when it comes to looking at each others deep dieing,
wantonly fear in the seeking what you will probably find.

because fear of you is unlikely it has yet to enter our minds,
because we’ve already looked and enjoy our tweeking around,
because by invitation we have already felt up your deep insides,
because your weakness and fears were all i wanted to be found,
because there is nothing left to reveal to another with no guide.

Yearning to respond with poetry is something like a trance,
.         there may be some day when mostly alone we will be,
you always get to share me is to be understood in advance,
only with our words can we truly see crystal dark clearly.

My house is on fire it’s not wise to stop & rediscover pleasure,
.                neo-virginity has half a decade of waiting on the shelf,
although everyone is always looking up to me for the treasure,
.        i am the one who feels like a dark and lonely little lost elf.

Your words inspire me to touch like they want mi caressing,
would be proud to print & maybe stand along side,
there are even those who are already asking,
what you are writing and where it is you hide.

i have been falling down with everyone i know,
standing around watching and clapping aloud,
my poetic license has been rejected with glow,
while living in the poetry capital of the world.

This is all that i enjoy or want to ever do and be,
if writing is dumb then i’m a dense moron,
it is not possible to fear those like me,
because like you i am the only one.

 

Bitter-Sweet Sips

Being with me is not what may seem,
I never have fights and everything is clean.

Maybe things will change when life straightens out,
But that would be strange and I’m filled with doubt.

i hate my bed because we’re always alone,
the only thing used is the web and phone.

Sure it get’s lonely every night alone.
Bit I get stuff done when I’m at home.

If that happens and my future is made.
i may not remember how to get laid. 

If when we meet and we probably will.
Forget my indifference go in for the kill.

When you wake up the wounded lion inside.
Forget that you run you won’t want to hide.

i crave bitter-sweet the taste of your lips.
The smell of your voice and soft rounded hips.

i need you right now please don’t stay or go.
You can go tomorrow but then stay very slow.

Take everything off and prepare for attention.
My plan for you is too sinful to mention.

So lay on your back and wet down your lips.
i’m serving you a gallon with all little sips. 

Empty & Hollow Facehits

You somehow think fate will find you a mate,

who thinks you’re not empty and hollow,

but what you really want to want,

is someone who likes to swallow.

 

So when you cross paths don’t lose face,

one chance is all that you will get,

it won’t be that hard to get very far,

then forget that you had ever met.

 

When you wind up at the end of a dark hall,

forget the names and tender embrace,

go for the gold put their breathing on hold,

if not down the throat hit the face.

 

Howling

All the best minds are destroyed by madness howling through the street,
starving hysterically naked at dawn and looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly meet,
starry dynamo in the machinery of night with poverty and trixx.

Hollow-eyed and high we sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness,
cold-water flats floating across the tops of contemplating jazz cities,
who bared their brains to just under heaven and saw angels redress,
staggering on tenement roofs illuminating those who pass through universities.

Radiant cool eyes hallucinating about light tragedy among the scholars of war,
who were expelled from the academies for seeming crazy & publishing obscene ode,
cowered unshaven in their underwear and burning money in a wastebasket moore,
windows in the skull listening to terror through the busted wall with their beards old,

Belts of marijuana eating fire in a painted hotel room and drinking turpentine to death,
torsos purgatoried themeselves night after night with dreams of drugs as waking nightmares,
alcoholic cocks and endless balling down an incomparable shuddering blind breath,
clouds and mind lightning leaps toward poles illuminating the motionless world between stares.

Peyote solidities in halls of drunkenness down the green backyard tree cemetery at dawn,
rooftops in storefront boroughs take teahead joyrides with neon blinking traffic lights,
sun and moon with tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks and ashcan gone,
kingly lights of mind are chaining themselves now to endless subway rides.

Noise of wheels and children brought them down shuddering and mouth-wracked,
battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear light of zoo’s cerebral detox,
who sank all night in submarine light then floated out and sat through the stale beer back,
fugazzi in the afternoon listening to the desolate crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox.

Seventy hours of continuous talk from the museum park pad to Bellevue then to the bridging,
lost battalions of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops of fire escape doors,
windowsills of empires stake out of the moon while yacketayakking screams and vomiting,
whispering facts of memoric anecdotes through eyeball kicks of hospital jail shocks and wars.

Intellects disgorged in total recall for a week of nights with brilliant eyes of doom,
meat to cast on the pavement vanishes into nowhere zen leaving a trail of empty postcards,
suffering sweats and bone-grinding migraines in a bleakly furnished room,
wandering around and around at midnight wondering where to go next in the railroad yards.

We went without while leaving broken hearts with lit cigarettes in boxcars going slow,
snowstorms toward lonesome farms with grandfather we nightly studied telepathy,
the cosmos will instinctively vibrate at your lonely feet through the streets of Idaho,
visionary indian angels thought they were mad while gleaming in supernatural ecstasy.

Jumping in limousines because of smalltown winter rains near Chinatown,
lounging hungry and lonesome seeking jazz or sex near a fireplace with a group of newbies,
following brilliant conversation about eternity is like a hopeless frown,
ships disappear into volcanoes of lava and ashes with scattered poetry casting shadows of dungarees.

Reappearing and investigating the beards in shorts with big sexy pacifist dark eyes,
skins passing out incomprehensible leaflets with cigarette holes burned into their arms,
protesting with pamphlets the narcotic tobacco haze of capitalistic communist lies,
Union Square is weeping and undressing while the sirens wailed all of the alarms.

Broken down and crying in naked white gymnasiums and trembling before other skeletons,
detectives in policecars shrieked from the neck with delight for committing no crime fits,
wild cooking pederasty and intoxication howling on their knees in the subway stations,
involuntary drunken dragging off of rooftops while waving genitals and manuscripts.

Fucked in the ass again by saintly motorcycle cops screaming with joy,
blew and are blown by those seraphim human sailors of caressive love,
balling in the morning grass of public parks and evening rose-gardens of coy,
in cemeteries we scatter semen freely to whomever comes our way from above.

Endless hiccups trying to giggle but wound up with a sob that sounded like a holler,
partitions of blond & naked fallen angels came to pierce them with a bent sword,
loveboys lost the three old shrews of fate with the one eyed heterosexual dollar,
the shrew winks the womb and sits on her ass while making you extra board.

Olden threads of the craftsman’s loom copulate ecstaticly with a bottle of beer,
packages of sweetheart cigarettes light a candle and fall off the bed of relentless,
continuing along the never ending floor and down the fainting and cracked hall mirror,
visions of an ultimate cunt with come eluding across the last gyzym of consciousness,

Millions of girls tremble in the sunset flashing their buttocks near a naked lake of zeros,
red eyed in the morning and yearning  to sweeten their snatches as our sunrise glows,
whoring through a myriad of stolen night-cars with a book of poems from secret heroes,
joyous memories of innumerable lays in empty lots & diner backyards with rickety rows,

Caves upon mountaintops with gaunt waitresses near a familiar lonely roadside picnick,
uplifting petticoats & especially secret gas-station solipsisms of johns & hometown alleys,
fading out in vast sordid movies about shifted dreams that  woke with a sudden panic,
basement hangovers with heartless horrors of iron dreams & unemployment valleys.

Snowbank docks doors to open to a room full of steam-heat and opium pipes,
walking in their shoes full of blood they created a great suicidal drama that delivers,
apartments upon cliff-banks under the wartime blur of the moons floodlights,
heads shall be crowned with an oblivion of the imagination and muddy bottomed rivers.

Weeping at the romance in the streets with their pushcarts full of onions and a bad buy,
sitting in boxes and breathing in the darkness under the rising bridge of harpsichords,
vacant lofts coughing on the sixth floor crowned with flame under the tubercular sky,
surrounded by orange crates of theology scribbled all night long rocking the boards,

Rolling over lofty yellow morning incantations we were prosing stanzas of gibberish,
cooking rotten animal lungs with heart tailed borsht & tortillas dreaming of a kingdom,
plunging themselves under meat trucks looking for eggs and throwing off their watches,
cast your ballot for an eternity of clocks in the head each and every day of the next decade,

Wrist cutting successively and unsuccessfully three times giving up with antique stores,
grow old and cry being burned alive in innocent flannel suits amid blasts of leaden verse,
tanked-up clatters of iron regimental fashion nitroglycerin shrieks of the fairies whores,
mustard gases of sinister intelligent editors were run down by the drunken taxicabs hurst’s.

Absolute reality jumped off the bridge and actually happened to walk away unknown,
forgotten into the ghostly daze of Chinatown soup alleyways singing to the lasses,
falling out of subway windows in despair for one filthy free beer or a small loan,
leaping criers all over the streets danced barefoot on smashed wineglasses.

Smashing records of nostalgic jazz and finished the whiskey with a bloody vomitorium,
moaning in your ears are the blast of colossal steam-whistles blowing silently,
barreling down the highways of past journeyies to watch our hotrod jazz incarnation,
driving cross-country in just three days to find a vision of our only eternity.

Journeying to die and come back lonely and brooding waiting in vain,
watching is a way to find out the time for lonesome heroes sedated,
fall on your knees to hopelessly pray for each other’s due salvation,
lights and breasts beam until the soul is momentarily illuminated,

Minds crash in jail impossibly waiting for golden headed criminals to behave,
charms of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,
retiring to cultivate a habit and rock tenderly to the black locomotive grave,
demanding sanity trials accusing the radio of hypnotism left with insanity pizazz.

Throwing salad at Dada and then presenting themselves on the madhouse granite steps,
shaven heads and harlequin speec of suicide with family demanding instantaneous lobotomy,
given walls of concrete instead and the void of electro-hydro-psycho-therapeutic pinging amnesiatics,
humorless protests overturned once symbolically resting for an endless moment in a catatonic tsunami.

Returning years later with balding under a wig of blood with wards of madtown madmen pointing tears,
shedding fingers to the visible foetid halls bickering with the echoes of your rocking and rolling truck,
in the midnight solitude-bench dolmen-realms of love you dream of a life without long nightmares,
bodies turn to stone as heavy as the moon with all of our mothers finally free to fuck,

The last fantastic book flung out at four a.m. of the tenement window suture,
the last telephone slammed at the wall in reply to the sharpened off-set,
the last furnished room emptied down to the last piece of mental furniture,
the yellow paper rose twisted on a wire hanger in the empty closet.

Imagining nothing but a hopeful little bit of hallucination for the pleasantly insane,
we are far from from safe while you are really about the total time of the mind we mapped,
suddenly flashing through the icy streets obsessed with the alchemy of the variable vibrating plane,
dreams dreamt with incarnate gaps in space-time through images juxtaposed and trapped,

Archangels of souls between visual images have joined the elemental verbs and nouns,
dashes of consciousness jumping together with the obsession to recreate syntax,
poor humans measure prose and stand before you speechless with sounds,
shaking in rejected shame and yet confused about the naked dance traxx.

Endless souls conform to the rhyming thoughts in my suffering head,
we burn angels to beat the time of putting down unknown destiny,
what comes after death is to reincarnate roses in a ghostly red,
clothes of jazz in the goldhorn shadow blow the mind nakedly.

Love is like a saxophone cry that shivered down the cities,
aether-waves beat the heart of an absolute poetic life,
butchered up and out of our own broken down bodies,
good to eat for another thousand years of our strife.

Transmogrified from Alan Ginsburg’s “Howl”

Spit Swapping Catacombs

We want to swap spit and flee to within,
forces of market end where I begin.
The love within me now is hidden way down deep,
so far down the hole blackness now does seep.

There is much to do about everything now,
it’s part of my nature to figure out how.
I like to figure out how everything works,
learning long ago the figuring out hurts.

There is no distance in our aethersphere,
that is too far for us to get from here to there.
It happens in a moment without even a thought,
you want to come now and not get caught.

All you need do is close your eyescape tight,
wish your wish I’m granting you now for love at first fright.
A billion quanta I lay before you to see,
and hope you direct them to little lost me.

The lions always lead there’s no easy way out,
where it is I am there’s no such thing as clout.
You only need for yourself whatever it is you require,
the catacombs of our minds are full of wanton desire.

Superficial Fang Dragging

Everyone is superficial,
because that’s all that they know.
If restricting art is a crime as they say,
then I am a jet stream flow.

I do what I want,
to those who desire.
What they truly need,
is what I require.

Always expect nothing at all,
your dreams will only come blue.
Your imprint on my brain is singed,
you leave me sometimes inane and true.

Dance with me now,
the sound of your thoughts.
Your pulse is the tempo,
our skin is the hots.

I will glide across your deck,
get real lost inside your smile.
Drag my fangs across you neck.
lay down smoke and drink for a while.

Pseudo Probablistic Mulitverse

Chaos and consciousness go hand in hand,
what’s the matter are you afraid of the truth?
There is nothing open that is left to 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.