Sunday, November 30, 2014

the night train runs same as the day


...A selective navigation boiled...
steam wells bellied upon the ocean's floor
                   rusting there since a century ago    its

Social    lips moving  a familiar word displaced
In comma coated peacock feathers  
                         or perceive it so
               jutting                     dispense     sonic salivation
 for thoughts undecided   
                                       steam as it is   life should be managed 
    containing All  but one trait
 thoughts 
         siding out side of the flocks clerical calender
                  rusting there since a century ago

Tide  lineal     a soul good enough to sink  deep      a breath...........

                    eye
      palindrome post pence        in calicoptic serenade
 over
sage sense
                    The kind that when telling a story cures in climax          wanting a smile in turn           
      
           steam     as it is life bellied upon the ocean's floor mined 
                              all but one trait


bondage?
a term to clear for

or it could be a term for
          highways in congestion      steam wells bellied on the ocean's floor
rusting there since a century ago     

Thursday, November 20, 2014

random no. I

i've read the I is    at its best when not at all
between        sense and since   in discourse

       in real time       I bests      evil in gnosis
           the prime is hers          
I   define lines
  
  the sort of i that rhymes with the sort of line
              were the H is silent  
      a sort of I  between balloons collected in rows signifying seatings
                                     places  we are supposed to sit
      the sort of line that bests its simple                 and pours the difference
                  to small to see      
                               i guess because the looking would be weird
                         the line becoming silhouette  deciding that silhouette doesn't suite
personality together with conformitative vibes       name tags and everything
       
its in your herd      she said    or maybe in your head
          who's to say

i've been told that when the rasta sing the I                  they mean God
            the totalitarian fiend subdues the drug of Earth      
and the other    way      
                 who's to say
the weed grows vagrantly     without nurture  in nurture
       
           in condensation
           combined these are conventions of I      
a wedding of self and no-self     in measure         the I is at point
                     
commanded in jest      
commended at best

            and yet when ran    continence of I  seem to fit delightful

when i can manage of corse
                     i've seen the I markets   heard my share that i

bought in and wagered the days earning     s
                          And   where is the difference
And what              
     
  i've seen the I     bought   bent and reconciled in highs of leisure
                               I can and will be sold

as it seems      the easiest of seams to mend
            

Saturday, October 18, 2014

mind your place

herman grant saw       what he thought was a buffet
only to be ousted    for what    again   he thought was just a couple of shrimp
no one would miss them      but that wasn't the thing that got him ousted
what got him on the floor    heels in the air     boot toes squeak like  everything else squeaks
when hands clench shoulders wielding their own contention
            was     the fact that he was not invited      
no one else was
                       mind you       however he was especially not invited
     like pickles in dessert

     he pined the air  familiar as most     smiles lent   to himself
as he enjoyed the plenty  

    the spread
          was vast    
 unwittingly    like severance pay in playpens
        all the others saw him      he was not to be talked to
and to the others      locking eyes with him was  at first thought
  a hair pinned clothe       in thy        loose  to the wind yet no one asks why its there
       
             for they do not dare
tread beneath its shade  
   nor could they
     prepared a chance         to dance Two feet out    
a bubble popped its' last regret

  and  they could not die       not now     the light Within is to good
    they sang
                  and the waves will lay me when I'm done

         and the others saw him as a rock that stays
but not in the good way

they  took him there and lent him neither

pass nor preference   until gate
  the only thing he saw                 they proclaimed self sustaining invitations and they
relaxed each others tones with calm
                  sounds             as  street lamp coils   fending off the first darkness of france
without poetry
                And to herman grant  the hole                                 thing seemed the same indifference was no difference
 when day became night again
he sought to grow his hair and tend to the stars    noting changes when he saw them
    and spent his days minding places most of all

      

Friday, October 3, 2014

point abridge

peek your causality    let it be wont
lend you a valley passer   in brief  believed to be right
   by those thinking the same thing
and i wonder what its like to be warmed
caldron and kettle the same
 
                                                a real flame passed with Lennon

within a comfort chorus   bird callings answer bird
no contention  

the only thing i know for certain is that people
when cautions      take        remember sound or such

and sound being everything
      what is forgetfulness                 everywhere

   a certain consciousness allows such forgeries
if a finger stretched to the unannounced belief   understood as known
reach backwards    a dance in forward spin
                                         feel a true feel

                                                 life can not be in the mind
life
 when the known rests peacefully
                    a cycle waiting for no one
                 
life when it doesn't
 a cycle awaiting cycling
the beard grown  leaf       at Fall     awaiting browning
    the cold is yet to bloom its bone
                 
 peek you a cycle up and down
and i am awaiting the day when a bone toe dances
the down curve  nomenclature     and grows instead of dies
 
         and in this moment    one could feed causality     to the dogs  

Wednesday, September 17, 2014

the got and the gone

it      or rather
the moment        flooded my vainness excitement

at the thought of the got and the gone
       
it                fired  red and white  a kiss   consume

         leaving in leisure is an offered please
when the decision lacks empathy
     or when it won't make me feel
       when it won't make me think
       when it won't          make me

when making is process no one wins    the not is pleasure

a cure for this is to not take things      seriously
 and by things i mean light
            and by take i mean be
what i mean to say is
            spiders are everywhere

and being bitten isn't the beginning
                   the bite a welt on my Achilles heal

tooth mark      a spot   and two        in dry skin
   a fingers itchier  chrysanthemum  
 

and time  will do what you've been told it does

semantically        remember hating time
i remember time
                           remember breath is given   even when not wanted
i don't remember time ever wearing blunder pink
   calling it style
            she wore it well and i was the different
we were

Friday, September 12, 2014

a discourse on the economy of being

bondage
a term to clear for

or it could be a term for
          highways in congestion
   
     it could also mean swearing    
articulation taken at roast        

                    the lips move  a familiar word displaced
In comma coated peacock feathers  
                        a soul good enough to sink  deep      a breath...........
i am a dream        or perceive it so
               jutting                     dispense     sonic salivation
 for thoughts undecided    siding out side of the flocks clerical calender

eyes

      palindrome post pence        in calicoptic serenade
 over
sage sense
                         an opening      in an already opened doorway
   leading to

la de la      with ginsberg on my mind

Friday, September 5, 2014

right now in the yard

                before i pick the ponds of my nostrils  

beveled  at a squint    bored       boarded     flicking
off    dead drat silken sleeves             of melancholy/

                  i think of         70's blond hair and nixon's nose
knowing nothing       outside of what could be buttoned up

        and the discourse that follows both trains    

crashing
when people care to look     pores in a blended wine   changing in
eighties keys

            this again?

an elephant is still                          allowed its trunk
          the ass       isn't worth its boat        

broad back bending monetarily   and
when was that not the case
                   

                               when cases carried remedies  instead of

         remotes     mindlessly tasked    
     
      repeating the same task
ground    contra flashlight  

perky breasts   my eyes wonder why i wander
without them moving

or maybe i should just change.      

change lawn chairs      or something
of something else making a difference

chairs        sitting in grass
                          growing indifferent to it all  

it overgrowth  
consume it all

Lot     a Siamese term
                      to be granted
                      sold
                      then bet against
in untold loss
and gains                 

Sunday, July 13, 2014

bug them/remembering/how to forget

doubled once       a double dance racket

     came as once  
                                  as the first corset in course
i could           help you in a second

breathe deluge     intro   drape-lings salted to Court

                       the opening is business       busyness cured

heavy on the salt and the lack of worlds between the one
         wold self  song bird damned        a water serving others

              drinking a thing....
well it's kind of like when nasa  publishes blurred squarish things and calls them
       significant
keel      the words makes sense to me       to define
                          the lack of words     needed to define a thing that no one sees
and heels lend   when you bug them

listen to the klent- ta-klut

let go lines and wear a broken t-shirt


i forgot my mind in the morning       a moments awakening
          silver  blame an eye lashing for the loss of gold

spend an hour in recovery      coffee              stigmatic stimulation
       an hour to smoke       just to recall the       dreams         lineage   and
how to forget it

 to simulate participation
        

Sunday, July 6, 2014

living in another room for rent

 i'll bounce a blue bird 
 beatnik dandelion    if i must          for life
            to live
                 cold card            play it warmed

or alt/loan  the eyes      loose      and gain in submission surprise 
       an easiness        
   i cleaned my clothes in the same house    as i sleep
unused     a page unturned               
    and     i've read a bounty in Laundromats  
i've sat and the    best i could have done is study
           remaining calm while the feathers roll        and pages turn


and therein lingers a middle to be reached 

           and anyways its low class   
just living in another room for rent

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

complications in the unlively mind of a student not studying anything...

do what you will        
    i have seen    someone a mule
as it were           in the
                                          land of the free
   or if   you will have it            in severed space

that space is the length between whatever definition you
      have to defend your eyes

and the lips it takes to console them       that space

in fret  consoles temporarily       not caring i'm.....
      there-in
        without me
her without you and a vision  of         luck

                                         having a mind of its own

even though it doesn't like to be bent
             i bend in resource

life begins beyond a Bayou's swamp
                              the water doesn't care either way

it's thoughts are its own........let alone loneliness

poetry doesn't need the teaser

do what you will   and the mule will still moan
                i was just thinking of all the Same       them and us

could of had if life Back then wasn't lost in the You
    'r  worth-its
    'r
    'r  trading-spaces-on-tv-divvied-up-within-and-between-commercial-tunes
we-all-hum-when-we're-bored 

Friday, May 16, 2014

angst and word play

the lawn is cut for me and yet i still find it a burden to live
    i am nothing in spite of vision     and what is not seen

             a story told in magnets          or the intra-red-shades
we pull over our eyes    in order to be perceived as   

one that can see            i'm speaking to the laura marling in us all

to attend           and endure a past seemingly disconnected   
earth         where have you been?

a story bests     or boils          depending on is victorious moments 
tales sucking victor    
               and vowing anything to pass

that         depend upon our mouths endurance 
empty and working                full and vindicated      in lots of way
   
        trailing last tallies

full of talents and tenants    sonnets upon seances 

spoiling real

reality chances the wind    chances        blinking tense

blacking breaks between win and loose

      a winners boast makes paper headlines  the day after
or it oiled with the dinners fish and chips  

      let a hung pained folly go   and let fester a dew

when paved intentions spell  paper machete remainders  
     fleet water
shading     unclean

a water meant for drinking

i dare you to read             and write   and self emulate 

without the integrity of cages

forge a madness    to forgo one


it is not your duty to perpetuate 
            in fact it is quite the opposite 




Thursday, May 1, 2014

things that are not up to me/ or you

i dreamt        a bounty wrench    strong as
      horses hooves in mid race      depressing valley

tight your ears and mouth

eyes     put away          as if sleep were

life bulbs to be casted away when out  
         trashbag knotted and delivered to the street
belittled

               in a since      
blinking yesterdays wrenches    same as todays
                 semantically named     assembly  

stitch and tear the same when bought and paid for

we square your sleeves       you square mine  
       mine square best
in past tense

Nature bends
                           naturally      
bends in weakness

wind submissions        make it worth its wild

in seed and branch         both give way to change
       when wrench and branch   twist

a wind
                using others to let us all know it's there
      we tend to lock our secrets              and we tend to
come upon them               intrusively

the serpent and eagle are not brothers      
                        they live together           learn in the same time


thrust and quarry ends            perturbation needs only holes to be complete

and the week begins  on occasion   left-ly          baskets of life     leaving

right  brain

basking in the far right way of thinking

i don't know
what we owe to the Sun                  understand this    color trance
     dope a braid and believe

the ways of man             lend this     mouth  submission

 enough unabated sound

enough to loose direction      arrows pointing everywhere
and every wear     and everywhere

its not too much to think that the earth keeps her own time
                     that shouldn't reck you
inconsiderate of our sound
                   if i were Her i'd think a tree


at its weakest         untouchable        

           and the sound of some   she keeps

not around      but somewhere
     
and those are things           that are not up to me          or you

Saturday, April 26, 2014

snail mail

the spectrum of color is  vast

   science
        they say/

science  keeps and calms what ails you
               and define yourself    
 
              science        i've witnessed      that a bad thing

forfeit the will      at its best and let it be clear

     their sounds are clearest when neanderthal        ing

        a warlocks blessing  writ on a multitudenal stationary

                     hearth stone cemented    complementary breakfast
comfortable

      Or i heard recently that the aether reminds us what to care about

speaking of life     and the distance It provides

                love                 it seems     takes separation
through resource
  and compilation            in ritual           an oath accepted as one

the other seen as one

         temped blue eyes or brown       whatever gets you off

templed into singularity

                i fought the sound of the gate keepers         moaning

who here is with me?

And   the spectrum of color is          vast
              what can want and wail        unseen

a suspended pleasure    ill-proofed     standing indirect

shake a breath

dare i break me      break you     you

           the mills hollowed in time lapse masquerade

 and  restart buttons are microwave dinner    easy
        eye chases thrones    like nibbling chicken bones

believe me        Its as easy as that

the lips appraisal       its the lips that    appears as mutually beneficial

               the Broad        somehow beneficial to all of us......

i would stand       or kneel    or sit          naked in front of your poetry
  if the feeling        flint blistered eliminated   flume

        back lit as   Truth    or likened to suck      in ease

with ease  your skirt  and lips red      one with envy and the other
in envy

how come you tend to lock it up                 your screws......

and  the spectrum of color is            vast   

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

we are timber

      we are timbers in the river
who    when cares to

 compels the tide     in want in length
             a timbers   weights its measurement
to gain it Here

            take the lines     squint to make them right
measuring there

            movement itself a flock     loosing memory like a lease
Yet

        we are timbers in a river
who can lend its measurement void

            breaking bread with the devil and cop a feel with the saints
begin      
 

            re-begin and define this meaning

a measurements meant adaptation

        we are timbers in the river
who parades unnecessarily


         we are a timber in a river
who   damns    when collected

        we are timbers in the river
who looks at mirrors in museums        plays tricks in threes  and
blinks when told to

           to  see your worst in night and day

forgetting that

          we are timbers in the river
who mends and allows mending

we are timbers whose river picture centerfold     in new york

ledgers with no evidence if the lights turn off
      we are timbers in the river
who channels turning

            but never off        no blanket necessary

when errands run     multiple tables
        a balance farthing        faired  gained in the taking game

ill measured in repeat  and meetings kept time table resentments  
    neighboring
   

  cave drawings   only the drawing was given up     as the lines were put it


                         meaning uni-dimension              the one and only

       we are timber in river
who            wealth planet lips flume

Sunday, April 13, 2014

i played/we played

i played

             we played    a game

a fitted color basque fretted by chance and timber
        the balance ledgered with repentance

it  carries   Kingly       riptide   radiation
   
             And    in old folks foliage          bleed a scrip     dancing

                       vortexual valer      like

        tonguing   hard candies        with soft centers meaning everything

                   suck your best and thank it out the door.

believe in action. no matter the cost       bundled dollars   in rubber Banded  brevity
          leave it to the good guys.
     

                                                         and          weather changes discussion

be it bout or bond   for orders sake we should see it          cut it correctly.  


                  and what of the SEA      an ocean of love littered in congeniality 

Friday, April 11, 2014

i read a book about chakras, again, there are so many of them

it talks all the time

    the source       as an eagle put it
it dwells without you       needs replication

or so the books say

      you see it in your dreams   in fact it makes them real
dream work 

if what the shaman says is true

it dies when we die    peti-file
    if the catholics had their way

           the pearly gates have a paypal
or st john takes discovery

it pines in battered tear drop fashions  helicopter dresses
      worn by the beautiful ones

held in suspension so that we may take pictures of their beauty
         it regrets this phenomena 

it laughs at suppressious superstitions      when floating lures    bobber jacket
      between scent and ones definition of    in  the know

the rights of spring 

could relieve it       her voice  sanctuary   beauty and
as it happens    caught unmoved freely

is movement         it moves but i can't think   the way
its' tooth's        a segway into


a blank check signed by those of which do not care about money


yet take it all 

    it is a spiritual utterance          we're told its important    but
i'd have to get back to you on that one

Sunday, March 30, 2014

sailors/Apostles/and truck week

it's better to be bright  then rendered 

it seems
       a blue bank      grayed    rind in lemon fashion 
its' cat walk   magic     like the kind we grew up with   dizzy 

makes you rethink the kind we grew up with
  if sailor mammoths eat your delights               no questions to foam

          sailors
 and fawning is inherent

like a saviors tailor tailing         mouth closed 

     no surprise but what you design
the Apostle meant to scribe not interpret 
 
          a slave is made to deliver    

                      the devils name   his receiver 
mouth cocked  opening the floor named desire

         a lie is what the truth can not afford

and change         is taxes cutting prose
to process a safety                secured in cuffs 
   both links and the ones meant for hauling 

its truck week        and the keys are awaiting  contract

Saturday, March 22, 2014

the color of your jacket

suppose
a passive deed surprise   outside
       the getting up is the hardest part

             a done deed    an exponetic  time piece
       clocked rankness    the money is coming in and there is nothing else
to fuck   collect and own

a wafered spectacle    ad/hoc   the nouns Will measured
  ledgers pulped and kissing

whatever can be kissed
       leave
the verbs to  transubstantiatic
dilettantes  fat and hungry       eating themselves
          eating the way they've been told
 
eating cross pence'd prodigy
                  because your In control

and the god of your mother has room
       as if the color of your jacket had sleeves    room enough to grow
yellow cleaves      obedient  in moon and dark side

unmoved   a passive deed overlooked


the land is where we live and the walking is how we get there
   forget your measures  

the old way need not apply

Friday, March 21, 2014

something boh

fight you    a winners circle       like rain checks in lampshade gratitudes
wearing main dog name badges      in   soup can sanctification    lip synced eulogistic mesentery
    a pulpit   in perpetuity    

   the pepper corns must be refilled

 shoulders squared in      inches of air    

       eyes wide blank what is next    
i just want                              want a whiskey and soda

the calf will mule the utter    when  shaking gaps   means butter
 


kill a need by killin that need           kneading purpose  its' strength
depends upon it. 

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

social relevant seas

living landward wonted  wonton trackless cracklets in a plastic bag
no rivered companion           read it longways
  hands spread     separated and busy

 you could have bought cleaning supplies when a knock on your door
springs son-belt singapore tides       drawing you to circles

                  giving everything when compelled
and     compilation

surprises  as social relevant seas   rise
   
         or more appropriately fall      a standard test
ranging

fair and balanced

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

the cosmos in 1's -n- 0's

i saw your green screened manifesto      of truth and experience     lend yourself to fancy and anything is possible     your truth  skirted icebergs /camera /action go go go   stand you        your worst stance  in   theory pixels   security's cleared    and pen (there wasn't one) dripping     pleated ink     plausible      you  laughing the hole time     because that's what i call it     theories digging holes   like the 80's    bright like Mercedes buttoning everything      explaining nothing     its useful too   when told or captioned           in production       explaining the cosmos    in 1's -n- 0's   greened            as if we needed another discovery where Everything         could         in theory    possibly    may   be known      or    get real     or    get the fuck out of town    your gut grows as you behave   addressing taped stances             dissvoweling flight                                so that i could discover what you almost know     could have known     as if the knowing was important

Thursday, February 13, 2014

of californ

of californ   your nature is your virtue     your horizon is the sea

      feel your length and let it not be defined
                       here lies   a threshold   a suture and thread mid tangle
          a wordswoth sonnet iv of iii 
 beyond are words we have yet to speak


There    lays a fervent creature
     
        its essence disturbs  pythontically

              its belly in dark dirt-the skin of space
tongue eclipsed    seeking sense
            its Others        realistic      as it seems
neighbors
                     Black and White

the essence pocket beat            as it can be scene
        or rather read
in  sacrifice        hair tangles in depths unseen
 
          frightened by color in depth

  of ambisonic ambiguity     shoulders shrug   dissonance
a universal smokers cough


of  california red         of   calories lost     & of toads

of californ         the black not  black enough  

           limping on the same crutch its fingers are
that is to say peeled                    legless or otherwise impaired

the white  gated malibu  street envious in street
gated in temples       or templates              between temples impaired

                an other wisdom               gated

to be white

defense is nature when  arteries blank
     its essence unclear

there she showed me a blade of sound

    a lower blade,   as it seems,
cows grazing tersely    a brand wearing things without tags

         from dusk till dawn        a callus on the other side of fingernails

a blade Whitman would enjoy
of californ what is your purpose

        Its essence  a ladybug in my head all winter

Saturday, February 8, 2014

eat your stake

we could be sitting in parks  wrestling
leave  pitch forks inside                   a pearling  closet
housed in its own wednesday

       left to the middle  Valencia
                     forgotten         left   amongst the liver and onions
if its the smell     we could lift the window

we could band     right handed words     left soaring   bouncing
empty hallway drum beat         bouncing celiphaholic pesticide

       casting eyes towards young boys            panting
justifying purity?          boasting bright red veins    eye mirrors

 as merry poppins  toting umbrellas

                         singing      the hills are alive with the sound of forgiveness
But  rather lay awake in Ginsbergs' splitended beardspread
             forgiving Alm                the way in which he breathed
                        Alm and the smell of the fatted calf melting
     its burning throat    as silent as    the rolled up tapestries

                      dusting, unseen in silver fed cloud strings
forgiving mercury    as Alm and Venetian silk      drapes of skin
    lost in the myth carrying the same name

eat your stake it's

their forgiveness      lend to          

a trollies bone yard  its there    
     
      or we could be sitting in parks
a breath lost             found in parks   their mills churning

       and be writers of words  sold in the good kind of secret

Sunday, February 2, 2014

in color the whole time

it seems
in order to contend

One must engage darkly
wearing sunglasses or what have You
and black and whit              details the brightest of colors
while being

in color the whole time

Saturday, February 1, 2014

smiling nothing on purpose

the vail of Albion has been concurred      in late      Fall like curls
curling    dry as broadway         and twice as loud

Its measure        selling  cellophanic blisters   popping when their supposed to
popping    like freshmen cherries     popping smiles

                     (and a star explodes a billion light years

every time you care to look)

As socially determined               smiles go

                              smiling congressionally

 ad-hearing  to the highest bidder
smiling           Nothing        

          On Purpose
         

         smiling  dust mites    eating  black, tired irises
fostered in movement    

and the colors are like new

these boots where made for walking but you have to ask permission

and your        original                 likeness matched    anticipated/looked out for
 
                    your  edges bending in obedience                    

       widely acceptable with-in        pictures pending  
  a social joke   told time and time again

in
      an unseen voice    adhered to
like the voice of Our Mother            the Earth       only

the master has a clean wipe
and he cares not of You               and
                      the lamb IS laying down with a lion  

        who has learned how to nibble

                                                         instead of feasting
like a lover
      like the rainforest frog
like a tide         fucking the shoreline

milking sand     like scripture
milking time

 milking a time where the trees ask the leaves to bend
                             but this time the leafs don't deserve to know why

   and we are marked by what club       We       Belong to?


  marketed    then re-marketed         and the leafs      or the lambs             or the ledgers


      are coined lawless                 in percolation  
                        percolated       catalysts granting the sounds of wood and wind


sang purity        yet given into the plastic polar bear
     sown quietly
unappealing

             like drive by movie makeout madness         settled

in motion picture sacrifice     in technicolor
written for          a lambs' masquerade

and the work is never done         the salt lick shrinking
in wind, in wont, in weaver and weave
     

                     because we are many
and we must Speak

we must Salivate
                             and not to the latest sunglassed sanctuary
but WE speak

                       like a mornings'        catered cafeteria
eating
                  growing         without our ferried eyes

an  effortless dew

granting roots in spruce rooted villages   milking the grass

as It is       either green or gray  
   
           for there is no madness telling     a further madness       telling Not to wet
the land
that is not nature

that is not natural         and We should not do that

Sunday, January 12, 2014

adds mass by darkening it

and what of these pearly gates
   their breath and ledger

detour the stars     attempts at bonding

          currents and adds mass by darkening it


selling skin cells chameleon

                           
     like a prenup or the history of easter

         And   the things found within gates
tend to admire their enclosure

           like    banqueting bombardiers between orders

    missing what seeds  and grows without them