Monday, March 12, 2012

Rosie The Mountain Dweller






The first time I called cats, I got some goose.
"My, that is one strange looking cat.. You, with your long feathered neck and quackus quacker, that beak you beckon..."
A goose with a wounded foot.
It came to me and my yellow folded paper in hand and stood closely.
We had a dine of stillness near where the shores were the entirety where the pond once stood.
Old baseballs and clams in the muddiness. Stones to throw at tree stumps.



The second time I called cat I got Rosie.
Well, I actually hadn't called for her, she mostly came upon her own accord, as most cats do.
I blinked and there was a cat.
"My, you're one funny looking goose, with your cat-like tail and velvet-ears."
We had a dine of stillness atop the heights, where you could look just over the ridge and feel like a bird.
A feline with soaring wings: That, I'd like to see.


Rosie, The Queen of the mountain top.
Eyes of Mercury
The loving ball of fuzz
For she who forever was!







 
Fixated, to look a stranger in the eye.
Look a stranger in the eye.
Look a stranger in the eye.
Look a stranger in the eye.
Look a stranger in the eye.

Worlds happen, they just do.
Beyond word or writing.


Nobody's Crying Those Regretting-Things



Shape chooses you

Workingworkingworking,finishingfinishingfinishing. 28 hour work days. Look back and have all but regrets! Every aspect of ability poured into creating an experience, where death becomes parallel to acceptance within knowing the life culminated was one of no chance held back and every moment: everything surely enjoyed!
To create something, using those moments and perceptions to record that experience. 
Rise, awareness of ability!
All efforts go noticed. Usurpers disintegrate. Abundance, Abundance.(suppression, oppression, shoo.. shoo!)
Every grain gone into, this.
A cartoon of calamity and an initiation of sounds, ghetto technology, makeshift approach. Organic shifts of mindsets, lessons learned along the way.
FUN is a good reason to breathe. Completion is a great calling to leave,
the repetition.

A new kind of kick: Jumping snails--Diaper Ice Cream

Okay, let us give this a go.
Let us rather than Let's which often reminds me of lettuce
Put it in the fridge and forget about it
and it's leafs start to brown,
So, Let Us, give-this,a go:

But first, Lettuce introduce the sponsor of this 'go' with
our new, top of the line, one of a kind
Diaper Flavored Ice cream.

Scoop it snoop it smell it,
we have many flavors for you to savor
Yes, diaper flavored ice cream.

Brought to you by the fine folks who serve cigarette-flavored tuna bars.
"mmm mmmm just like Unkie used to make it, and send home from cell # CB-4."


Warning: The following program may contain viewpoints.
Viewpoints are substances of information collected by a conscious entity riding the wave of life through the human experience.

If you find these viewpoints shocking or offensive, you may want to:
Take a walk around the block,
Or go step, with waders, past the dock
Or suck a wadded sock
Or, plainly disagree,
Because each entity, may
Wahoo
contain,
one or two viewpoints.


Have you ever felt like you were condensing your soul-self unto the rife performance of 'getting along to get along?'
Or to get a long lung full of lollies lulling lullabies that makes the expression of purity seem, a little bit... oh, sock mouthed and malnourished?

Well, news!!
Many many seem to hold back inner thoughts... Perhaps binding the expression of inner truths to please the company, or make that sale!

Sales don't sail but sails sail and snails don't hop, that is for frogs.

But frogs in the fog might run into a snail and if a snail gets spooked...
justtttttttt enough....
It will hop!!
Don't believe me?
Try it!
Get out there, wait in the fog.
It may take an hour, Okay,
a couple of hours..
but wait..
Down in the trench, the muck, the gumbaboo, the trestle.
You'll see a jumping snail.



Okay, now that you have returned from the trestle..
Now,now.. Don't be messy, take off your fog-dwelling boots before continuing.
Okay good, that's much better.
Do you seem to get picked up out of a lineup,
the best to serve?
Training each moment to condense your actions of soul force into a little niche of marketability..
Condensing, like a chowder soup, every fraction of action into something sellable, fashionable..
Every pure beauty of randomness randomized so expectation can be the NEXT thing to expect!?

Symbols of patterns penetrating the pedestrian psychology as to predict what the buyer may do next!?

Grumble grumble grumble I wish this I wish I want I ought I wish I had..
CHANCE!!!
Into the unknown!!!
Presented, by the rhythm, Gifted.
Oh what yuppy, free-loving, beat-headed wishful thinking, freak talk!!!
Misery loves company. Company provides misery.
Put this tag on!!!
Now, make milk, cattle!!!
We'll bring your slaw buckets out and call you pretty Bessie, just don't walk away from the stables, into the fields of jumping snails. We need such cow for Diaper Flavored ice-cream.

The jump, the switch, the GUESS.
Vibrations of a language to reinstate the new truths. Reworking newer understandings to realize the REAL flavor of artificially flavored to taste naturally.

Rebellious personas with tax-writeoffs. Peace symbols on skimpy panties, the symbol of feminine upside-down and sold sold sold sold too many solds listed gets old old old but a new style and glamor will replace the last.
Rebellious fashionability... Ability but unable,
Yet the choice: Participation comes through each and every second.

Birth the absurdity, Bring the rays of the childish elder.
Ra on a unicycle, your perception unto the eyes of who you stare into.
Roman calendar systems in the mouth of an underwater Nemo.

The angers of the past balled up into a bubble and popped!
A rat-a-tat-tat of chance.
Fall into the line?
Touch breasts with the divine?
You always serve somebody unless ya ain't!

what will be remembered...
Are you happy and enticed for your journey to be one remembered and versed in the story of history?
Is this the trail you are sincere with, being told as a character?
Yes? If yes, all of this: words blurred, something to reflect... with the sour reference of an ice cream you may NOT wish to indulge.
If no, a reminder, not forced, I mean.. I could be wrong,yet, I prefer to convince my character otherwise because it's a little easier away from any letdown that way...
If no: Remember your own strength and each choice.
You never HAD to sit and wait for a snail to jump, out in the muck.

Beings of beauty: for when your perception of 'acceptable' is not muckied in the muds of what is and is not tolerable to a vision of stunning or sexy or fashionable.
But where did all the money go?
Well, I heard that alligators lived in the sewer.


We now cut to another FABULOUS sponsor.

"Hey Janie"
"Yeah Joey?"
"I saw the baby was sick and we ran out of ice-crea...."
-ZAP!!!'

Friday, March 9, 2012

AMERICA IS COMING BACK


image credit,from that listed site,'pparently.
No it's not

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Freckled A Moo's Face




03/08/2012 fingers bled.
EEAEAE

She fell at a grace
that would freckle a moo's face

Men to the golf course
and women to the gym
Buy her fancy decor'e
and a gillette for him.

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

We are all just little kids Beings of infinite ability

A collection of playful musings, questions, perceptions and ideas that will provide entertaining for the moment being.

Explaining the spiritual/ethereal in words always seemed to form an outlay of seemed madness on something that must be felt to be understood (more easily so than written, anyhow.)
The ability of symbol really relaxes unto the expression of the esoteric and this idea helps comfort that notion:
http://www.alphabetvsgoddess.com/index.html

It is an idea that the left and right correlate their own split between image and symbols.
This idea has been resident in my view shaking often from side to side wishing to be grasped, so when this link stumbled upon me I was very excited.
The feminine right brain and masculine left brain: The world of symbols, shapes and art|The world of language and text.

 ---------------------------

Part the webs hinged over abilities.
The entirety is internal.

Through the pace, we speed up, learning faster and faster.

Idols and stars, have always been us.

Beneath distorted coverings are
BLEMISHES
and (GASP)
FRECKLES on the famous.

Did you know that actors cough and sneeze between movie roles?

It is time to take pride in the elemental.
Time has already left the vicinity.


What is looked up to?
Actors.
What is an actor?
Somebody who fills the role of imagination. escapism.

We idolize the course of somebody distant pretending to be somebody that they are not.

As we idolize the dreams,
we can in fact, instead,
become the dreams we wish, rather than escaping from a dullness to only want and want somebody in which we have no real clue how they are 'off the set.'

Papers stack up like houses and in Earth,
I do not want out of this place.
For Earth, let as it is, is a growing and beautiful residence.
For when we do not cover over it's natural persona.

Asphalt is the make-up to a beautiful freckle!!

Expectation is the billboard over the stream side.

It was a billboard for WATER.


Associated, the feminine is seen as weak, the male seen as brute.
Though within each aspect is shared.

There is a split that is abundant in each feature.

For in error there is a way of learning. At the smashing of a watch there is the time to tend a growth of food supply.

The woman is god and goddess, the male is goddess and god, if you will.

You always serve some body, unless you ain't!

You always serve some body, unless you ain't!


Caterpillars race at unbelievable speeds.
Dashing towards the Finnish line, but none of them were Finnish,
Though caterpillars don't get lousy puns, so the race was all in fun.
And we continue:

Life: A docking station between dreams.
Human: An experience machine for the dreamer.

Risk: Risk is to conjure up the ability to take chance.

You're yours.
Nobody's more than your own.
If you will.


Many ideas that often seem too surreal may need data or charts of confirmations involved and with fair reason because for so long we have been a 'prove it/touch it/material' reliant hemisphere. Or for others it requires story allegory or metaphor, either way
Life: A docking station between dreams.
Human: An experience machine for the dreamer (to me, at least.
To each delusion their own!
Pick one but with lots of leg room and less penalty for imagination.)

Write down a phrase on a sheet of paper:
 That same phrase comes up later
Fear won't make it any safer
So recognize the power of your being.

We graduate from the dependence of clutch
Using the mind as a tool rather than a crutch


Fear not the incoming idea that may overwhelm the senses.

Being young enough to still be a fool but with enough years to learn from foolish things to have at least some wisdom to build off of, I have never really been able to trust a form of any real "leader" or "idol."
I think inspirations have guided me and the figures and characters that garnered any legitimate interest from myself were those that spoke of never initially really wanting any 'followers.'..Those who would say to 'trust your self... your true self.'

And it has been that way, not necessarily fearfully distrusting authoritative figures but knowing better not to than really allowing some other characters life experiences to guide another being's perceptions 100%.

Often when getting into writing such things I recognize that the thoughts in due time will render obsolete or even more foolish in regards as I read it later on and become embarrassed. Though also, now, I realize that shame is a mechanism of comparison to the standard and I believe that 'bridge' has been burned far, far long ago. (Also that area of questionable humor and speculative approach makes things bearable.)

Carlin always worked to my accompaniment as when in a bitter or alienated state. ..Or a "there must be someone out there who...." .."understands at a time like this." and so Carlin would damn sure lift my spirits when hesitant or feeling as my rocket landed on the wrong planet.
The comedian is more than merely a funny man (what the media calls comedians) and the cure of an honest laughter is way more rewarding than the gimmicky phrases approached from sales interests found in 'comedy movies.' Social commentary was aimed at the king as he wouldnt take himself too seriously. Social commentary aimed towards ourselves or our social structure allows us to optimistically criticize and not take ourselves too seriously. (Bile will be continued to be served as long as there are those who enjoy a cheap and easily induced/served bile.)

Bill Hicks always felt kin to me. It may and probably will sound sappy but in the personal practice of ridding shame from a mere reaction of what another may think when I am speaking my truths, I admit that the energy of his life felt present and accompanying when being introduced to his material and pretty recently, on a higher scale, his music as well.(Turn your mind over to your heart)
It was that area of frustration yet seeking higher understanding, and being at that ground where there's the world that is so re constructable and a populace that could understand the beauty of our own powers but there was also the standing before a structure that just didn't seem to give a fuck about that idea. People that did want to just be lazy or kick the lower man in while they could. I guess you could sense that same stand taken from Carlin, too, but with Bill there was probably a generational connection that was closer to home for myself.

This ought to lead in to views of synchronicities and it will, starting here
I wound up receiving an email letter from the forum for Bill Hicks which I must have signed up for quite a while back. Long story short there was a contest for the American Dvd that is still pretty recent.
Normally I find myself hesitant as hell to ever enter any competitions, contests.. those kind of things. Despite that I decided to send a quote in just for the heck of it. (The contest was simple, send in what you think is the best quote by the comedian.)
Long story longer: An email "You are one of 3 winners.." A bit of time pass. Leaves fall, ants die, birds screw, junk mail. It was on my birthdate when a poster arrived from London with signatures from his family.
The ability to 'let be' and be content with a subject in a positive setting the quicker that idea seems to advance. It births at a notion that the relaxed, abundant accepting state returns intention and significant observations at a quicker rate.

Yet another connection with an influencing comedian completed it's rounds when a newspaper article involved myself printed on the backside of a comic I looked up to that was performing right in town but that is another story.

It is always a strange experience, at first, telling of recognitions or synchronicities (The term derived from Jung, sometimes ignored when discussing this word but he is worth crediting.) Due to synchronicity  being so personal for people, they are an extreme case of phenomenon and also, if you do not explain them in the correct manner, an extreme case of questionable hysteria to the unaffiliated listener. Many writings and examples would have culminated in the past if I hadn't second guessed my own delivery of words.

Though, bridging until the next example to give a personal stance I will say: We really are at the 'good morning, time to get up' motion as a consciousness and by that, even when we think we understand the majority of aspects of how consciousness, life, the universe or a car battery or elephant fart really works, I believe there is always an endless amount yet to learn even after and while we think we know it all.
In this regard I think the abilities of not only the imagination but the power of how it creates and how the "dreamer dreams" are seldom given the credit that they really deserve.

Many absurd manifestations or connections do occur and the skeptical, frightened, rational/absurd mind can deem them as coincidence depending on how overwhelming the experience may be. It is a situation that questions the boundaries therefore it takes some time to convince the otherwise unwilling to realize the rules were written in erasable marks, not permanent ink.
Depending on the personification and the society that surrounds you, such admissions of stringing information together as a culture and people would either deem us as in and as a major delirium/hysterical or the purveyor of a major breakthrough and progression.
I argue that we have been in a psychosis for QUITE a while (Cough ahem, look around.Shoe stores and crazy straw manufactures,tabloid programming,etc.) In an approach of gleeful opportunity I see the abundance of so many experiencing 'phenomenon' as a direct current of the power of the individual being recognized amidst a fall of another darn empire. Yes, the dark ages weren't so distant as text books may spell out.

I was in a tiny town library of a M. of nowhere .

Mark Twain was always a figure of encouragement to me. I always felt like and still feel like one of his characters at times through strides of adventure when pulsing through the crisp expanses chucking the remnants of an apple core off into the brush and being absolutely careless of any schedule aspiring through opportunity in the now (and how!) Maybe it was more of an energy of leaping into the adventurous unknown than it was matching a character mindset that Twain could bring out to his still growing reader-base.
In this tiny town library in the M. of nowhere I walked in past the singular tiny town door and before I had a chance to even scowel my eyes in any other direction really, there was a Biography on 'ol Samuel (Mark.)
The next scene will be more than enough, but this will spice it up a bit for you as well:
Days before that occurrence I had read pieces from a text document from p2p simply entitled mark twain's speeches.
(it's proper title was Project Gutenberg Etext of Mark Twain's Speeches, by Mark Twain #49 in our series by Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens))
Anyhow, in that little tiny town library in the M. of nowhere I had found, too, less than an hour later a magazine for wood carving in which the main article piece focused on a Mark Twain portrait of his mug (erm, face) done in a wood carving.

Recognizing that foremost influential figures are indeed prone to repeat themselves in subject matter. It's not uncommon to hear the name Reagan or Scoobie Doo or Beyonce or something similar over and over so I will regard these 'well known' figures merely as example (though they are reserved as important,personal examples in my eyes they may not be to you. That is what is intriguing, how the perceiver carries one's personal quilting connections.) Close friends, as well and other examples also reflect as more personal subjects in which this occurs.

Now an approach in a situation is the arguable answer, as I have also heavily, recently, once again have been adapting into my perspective the techniques of 'imprinting' by some of Robert Anton Wilson's books. He also had  reminded me, through listening to his speeches, the ghoulish treatment and endurance of people such as Wilhelm Reich and Ezra Pound. Wilson is an impact of much needed optimism and humor where 'research' and 'perspective' in my life was being fledged too fully with so many depressing and hopeless personas that wanted to blame some higher up I'd never prove existed. Anxieties and blame seemed to be one of those 'slower/negative' manifestations whilst Wilson perpetuated a more light-hearted yet also responsible approach to our ability to take credit and caution to how much leg room there is between participant and scoffer.

So either a madness is building up, through an approach of somebody who may see one as an Eris-encouraging, beatnik enthusiast, lude comedian-inspired, bastardized psychotic but if we are mad, in a maddened state (be honest, it's batshit...) then the only approach out is a.. different madness. A more encouraging madness. A freeing madness that becomes the norm after the norm is recognized as outdated and, well, mad.
Because as we are conditioned, most right-out and-the-open and upfront, to disregard anything as 'new' as a culture shock or a threat to old adjust ways, then it will always take a different madness to tear-birth it's way out of the old rotten and overlooped state.
Yet.. it is full of curiosity. And when just when was the last creative non-marketed culture (Where are the lighthearted, fun cultural movements of today? Build one!)

Gilgamesh,
Glugga Glugga Glugga
Drink the bubbles out shale
Glugga Glugga Glugga
A wayfarer
Gilgamesh.




So the approach is:
You are recognizing and collecting information.
Information is not necessarily harmful.(When left on a table with the safety off)

We are in an abundance of information.
I keep hearing that 'information is light.'
We are illuminating ourselves. Use this ability for the best of reason: Whereas we can argue that we are also being oppressed by the technologies that allow us research new outlook. Always use the progressive elements of such tools rather than complaining about the downside. There's always a downside(/Build.)
There is always a critic who seldom creates/Create and let the critics critique. Somebody can argue with them later on, yet, build build build! Build the knowledge of the self. If the bridge is burned, too, be sure to know very well how to swim. Or don't!  Glugga glugga glugga. Or is that Glug Glug Glug?

In this abundance of information we can create more connections(10) of information and recognition as well.
We become more aware of more information, become more assured in the power of our ability, and thus reflect more in that exact manner.
(You see, when you arrive back at the idea that this is a hopeless idea, it lives and breathes as hopeless. Being fool enough to escape given limitations offers the opportunity of freedom away from having to depend on the delusion of a control mechanism.)
"Pull the wool over your own eyes, relax in the safety of your own delusions!" J.R. "Bob" Dobbs."


Taxes are tacky and thumbtacks are whacky so sit on a nail and call me Pataki. 

So the Clemens center is a little over an hour from my dwelling. I once randomly emerged to be told that I was standing at the point in which he (Mark Twain) wrote part of Huck Finn.
It means something to you if you let it. And if it means something to you, give appreciation to that reoccurring insight and life fills with meaningful things seemingly enough. The characters or subjects echoe and burp reiterations to the observer.

The availability of light/information allows an access to several practices that render the nervous system and persona to become more aware or more open to other abilities which is great. (Great, just great!) The fear within the esoteric must vanish and I believe the abilities to form your own awareness have always been available for those who seek and who do not call individuals who wish to learn evil/etc.
Put in a shardositone manner: It's always there (that enabler to advance) but that little oomph of curiosity, or breaking out of pre-fed 'Cant's'  must be re-established.
(Note: Set clock ahead. Note: Set clock behind. Note:Smash Pocket watch.)

Along the trailway, '11


I took practice rather than merely reading and believing and vividly found a recognition of Hermes repeating contact symbolically through my perception in book and life story. The practice regards sound vibration and the elements of Egyptian symbols.If you read Israel Regardie's very interesting works you will find studies of this and similar things. (Also culminated from the interest of Anton Wilson. (Names trickle into one another since most of these mindsets seemed to have thrived off eachother's absurdities of eloquent and connected ideas, from comedy to folklore and philosophy, these minds seldom seem separated.))

On my birthday (a separate birthday year from the 'poster' incident) I walked a long beautiful path and saw the present symbol of the bird Thoth along a trailway empty to anyone but.(photo above.) I had not recognized, at the time, like a fool or putz, but later learned of the significance of this symbol. The beautiful bird originally was Ibis.. Today we have, in the U.S., the Blue Heron & Crane bird.


The Hermit/Hermes has been my recognized symbol mostly in connection to chosen path of singularity/lonesomeness that fits yet it too very well stores a balance of worlds and persona. I also connect the word with hermaphroditic in which culminates the attributes of male and female which relates to alchemical marriage and the hermetic law, etc.(Being the balance of left/right)
The book Idoru in which I just finished  had Hermes amidst one of it's many pages, Just thrown in there as I was contemplating writing this. So I did/am.

Without such available information at such ready access some of the joys and astonishing connections of recognition would go passed very easily, such as finding the symbol and meaning of an object from not merely one but many cultures.) If perception can be related to a sort of magnet, then it is hard to argue to say that if  you widen your perception then the things you pick up and find relation to in information also becomes more growing. That access to choose to feed your signals with things you feel useful to your personal expansion can be replaced with pre-programmed fancies of merely being entertained or gimmicked.
Though now we can transcend being blinded to certain information and to be in appreciation of living such moments that may raise more and moreso quickly. (Quicker rates of receiving what is lent outward.)

Back to Wilson who speaks of imprinting: He of course was imprinted and enthused by predecessors and they too by other researchers or philosophers, or sinners of their own time; Each one, of course, in their own days of life having those who called them mad or even being killed for their ideas.
 Notice, too, how the role of a character is associated with an actor. The syndrome of attaching somebodies ideas or role soley on that human. For even if an idea is frightening, is thinking or portraying that idea illicit enough to form actions of muffling and taking life of the person presenting that idea?
Luckily for us, Wilson never was too harshly, metaphorically, beaten up or hissed at for his tones of both skepticism and optimistic thunder. Though many of his colleagues faced rather obvious and rancid perplexes of thumbs attempting to silence a message of perspective. Think of the cost of books and re-formating of courses/lectures if some of our dear-held ideas are all of a sudden primitive or challenged by new downloads of possibility. Fortunately, I foresee Wilson's words of self-questioning and establishing a constantly re-working and curious viewpoint to be something continually full of use to progress, learn and find a happiness and playfulness amidst so many seeming prayers for doom, disaster and little small cups with umbrellas leaning toward one side.


The technique of imprinting is very interesting because with recognition we can realize our own 'reality tunnels' of information. Read the book and perform the practices of Prometheus Rising.. Absolutely available if you look for it. (Actually around the 5th listing in a web search you can read it in entirety.)

It is my third time reading this and when you discover new things the book is brand new to you all over again.
Not only with books but with other aspects of your life you are able to keep refreshing the interpretations and glory of experience so long as the definition of your character relies on more than emotions of expectation.
You find yourself young again in perception and willing to learn and pay attention to very exciting things if you are willing to. The fool is the saint. The subjects of looking and learning and re-adjusting to areas of opinion you disagree with are very humbling and also able to make you laugh at yourself if you catch yourself in a prejudice of societal taboo from inward/outward.
Best of all, the practice: It works (Or I am successfully tricking myself and growing farther into the realms of tiny town?)

Connections of information, I restate, I believe, allow us to see a more prominent and hopeful ability of our powers as creators. It seems to grow in a pace when you build and have the intention to create in positive regards; To realize: "We are all just little kids and specks of existence" yet we are also "co-creators and beings of infinite ability." I just think that the latter option is re-emerging into our beings as cultures that are no longer necessary take another rest as they crumble. While so, our own hands are left to do the work of hands and not of occupants. The faster things appear to move as recognition is steered with more precision.



Synchronicity, in not such a bold yet moreso a hopeful and archaic sense, is to me but a tip of the ability that arrives alongside a focused or interested recognition. Yet, also, they arrive when you absolutely do not expect.
 They are stories difficult to put into words because they are so personal but they are so exciting and mind-staggeringly whimsical that you want to share that creative and surreal feeling.
The good thing is that you won't get burned at the splicer for talking about it at this age. Maybe you'll raise a few eyebrows, trying to explain the symbolic in lingual form, but we need more eyebrows to be raised and curiosities to be lit.

 I find it, still, very fascinating how many of the familiar names mentioned so far collide with one-another. I specifically draw to attention not to worship or take everything these thinkers, or myself, or your-self even(!) at an 100%, I.E. worship them, but they come across more as a friend-collective.. People whose struggles, oppressed and not, have been recorded for us to see and to adapt with.

Wilson was spoken of by Carlin and Twain visited Tesla's laboratory.. The names really collide as some family of the not necessarily absurd, but artists of a vision who's final works were not ready to be accepted at large during their time. (Or I am just imprinted and inspired by these folks.) Yet their recorded efforts contain a furious will of charge of the imagination to inspire us to realize we are at those same limbs. Yet without a spot light the ideas still shine so loudly that their/our attention will be recognized by advancing the rules of limit.


There are reasons that subjects of topic that were very much provably kept out of public dialect are coming up now at a remarkably inescapable rate.
Whether it is a reaction and manifestation of so many becoming interested in abilities and mythos that I believe were available to all at once or if it is the media attempting to counteract and feed fear through this information is an argument among itself. Yet, I believe that the recognition is here and there is no rug big enough to sweep it beneath or any rigged bug bad enough to sheer it beyond any road block. That is why the word inescapable is profound in this meaning because I find it very difficult for somebody to close their eyes now at the subject of Earth in general being just a little bit weirder than one has initially imagined.

Translate what is foreign, for hiding it doesn't make it any more out of the way or understandable.

The records can be burned, the practices can be smudged and said to be malevolent yet I regard the rebirth of information and the freedom for self perpetual, non-harming advancements to be a fun and exciting ride as the human experience watches itself morph from a species that is destined to revolve and yet also feed curiosities. Yet now we access our own information.






There was an elephant on a string floating 200 feet up in the sky
It's striped shirt was tough to identify but if one squinted hard and ferociously enough
you could tell it was yellow and green
(The shirt, not the elephant..)

"Excuse me sir, do you see that elephant, flying high in the sky?"
(Well, nobody uses the word 'sir' anymore, but you get the drift.)

"My, you ought to be a snaggly box weaver, you jesting peeon!"
responded the man who was asked this question. He wore a monocle and found this
question a rather absurd notion.

"Sir, do I look like a man who would try and fool you?"
responded the one with the tattoo of a block of cheese underneath his eye,
coming down as a yellow teardrop with shapely holes of Swiss.

"Why, yes, yes I would say quite so." The man adjusted his monocle and
broke onward with a 'Hmphhh' of disgust and wasted time.

The elephant was plaid.. Though you couldn't really tell, unless you squinted
And the yellow and green striped shirt would blur.

"M'aam, do you see that elephant, flying high in the sky?"

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Mansion for a shrew

For Merril,
You remind me of a salty milk tin.
Left on a shelf of an abandoned liquor house.
Scattered,
Ran out of and left to age.
Unclaimed: The residence;
Salty and archaic: The tin.

A crooked weather vein cocks tweaked in the leaning
direction of measly roof.
Tornado towns and growing briar.

Merril,
Moo milk.
Motherfucking moo milk.
Another residence left to poor shape.
Fair enough of a mansion to the passing shrew or opossum.
Yet a biped with pocketbook to walk up these stairs
and CRACK you're a busted hip and better off suburban.

Bourbon. Snuck in,
Weeks before it collapsed.
Drunk two nights passing through a thick of nowhere.
Milk tin left on a shelf, later wearing rooftop as a hat.
Nowhere is someplace for somebody, like a shrew
or runaway.
Moomilk.
Godamn moo milk.

Friday, March 2, 2012

TwitTwatCuntsaNDrods

TwitTwatPickMeNot.
                                 Another holiday,
                                                         Finger yourself with twenty
                                            and fashionfuck.
                                      TwitTwat
                      Cunts And Rods
                                           Merge,
                                                    Dividends gone.



                                                           Static grass and little games
                                                                         like tax collectors and getting laid
                                                     erector sets and flint to strike
                                    with big parades and riding bikes.
                                                                       Little rhymes in dainty ways
                                                                                         the musket plops
                                                               Proponent sways
                                Split the ego, makes me and you
                                                                  You and eye split to two eyes.
                                                                                                  Fight and argue,
                                                   love and fuss
                       Bloom from birthright
                                                             turn to rust
                                                                                 Palm lines drive on
                               Orange cones and signs
                                                                                                                      Free spirits leaping
                                                                                                    avoiding fines
                                                                      Hear one through the cellar sweeps
                                                          Tearing hard work, stripping eats.
                                                                                   Static grass and little gems
                                        Who are us                                     when are them
                                                    Tax parades and musket sways
                                                                             blooming rust and bike parades
                        Turn to rust, birth to pure
                                                                        Free the two, to one, to cure.


Old rusted vending machines were discovered in rubble where ambitions were sold for credit slips.
This machine was buried deep beyond the soils near other scattered fabrications.
Shiny discs cracked in half and concrete squared now midway below the ground.
Thumbs stuck to devices, Midway below the ground.
Distraction, easily, but  gone and faded to be found by those with the patience to dig
only after the molecules convince a force to make them again.
Crash, machine, smoke, burn and cease(machine!) The growth will not cease, laugh at the machines attempts
to stay in dominance. Wish to serve, if you really will, Wish to be unbound if you really will.


We slept in cages for days. But we're out now. Some want a way in, some want to weigh in. We slept in cages for days. I like it out the cage. I like it out the cage. I will stay out the wall. See creatures, you do not see, see creatures you cannot see they get along quite well I see people you do not see Open yourself up reach the higher world we don't need to wade in hell I like it out the cage I lock it out the cage I lock it out the cage.



Goddess re-emerges from the roots that rise through cities
from the land of the Sahara to claim birth as our victory
Greet the once unseen as visitations reflect

                        Phonetic tones imprint the patterns we think we need
                          Yet the mind is the gift, abundance dries the greed
Reconnect dialect, respect the way of the will
You're as dead as alive when convinced to kill
Be calm in the sweep as advertisements fall
Fear not the memory of a world free from walls
The source that is all, Fear not: the freedoms met
Free from the shame of choice, free from mental rent
                       To express is to make known, to state, articulate,
                         communicate, convey the doorways that relate
Experience blood through veins
                                with perception as the frame
                                          There is no death to fear
                                                      The rise of life is here
                                                                A million lives to one
                                                           Each action holds it's choice
                                                           There's the option to follow
                                                             or to manifest your voice
                                                             In the oddity of beauty
                                              through windows so unknown
                                     You are the goddess of all birth
                                The god of your self worth
                        You're the shadow of dark planets, the rays of the sun
                                          The fire of the light, creator of fun
ha-ha-ha