Open palms held up to sky lines

"Life is

I need you,"

She said. Life is I need you.

"And I am not uncertain of what Life Is."

Life comes sewn to become known

also finding what life Ain't.

Life is Ain and cannot become explained

but it's also not waiting-lines.

And it is! It is! It is!

Add one more traffic-light and see

what crime-rates occur

but life is the silken plume

and deadly puma's purr.

Madness is not fear    to the solitary eye.
                                 Comparisons are made
to believe death and re-invent death.

                        Madness is some Sutra Bliss
in the eyes of the busy,                           I've got a caffeine urge.


                                                     The bust of the maiden is some pornographical
                                                                                                               bust.

Words are carrier pigeons, we call them paper pigeons.
They are detectives and they are messengers and
even by
calling them                        they
represent a separation between root and stem and leave.

                                             And why not say each is a creature their own? Call this
                                                          leaf its own
                                                  call this root
                                                           its own.
                                                   or join soil to root, to tree.

A westerner's guilt flies a soothened, sinking quilt.
Guilt flies buzz shooting ship-sank guns
Remarkable like uncovered treasures
and so tongues are guns
and also helpful arms.



                                                   & the efforts in the heat

                                                 to've not passed out
                                                  into heavy-heavy heat
                                             by god this is a desert
                                                I'm not supposed to regard
                                                    the Camel in public-presentation.
                                               Because the books crafted by a Falcon
                                                 put it in to words already so very clear
                                           and words do not have to be hidden these days
                                          because the literal guillotine had went away
                                                    though the public shaming Persists Persists!

I had to go mad to write this
in the sand using the tips of hands
some called mine like my roots
are me
said as ankles circle-a
with veins and blanks that steer.

                                                                 Yet your pain is my pain
                                                                so by all rise out
                                                                         that pain
                                                                due to empathy- intensity
                                                             becoming an massive irritation
                                          the world's volcanoes are earth's
                                                   emotions
                                                                      it goes through changes &
                                                                              inflammation.

This goes. Dance! Jump. Pass People
so-close. Eyes--- stories, seen,
do tell... television Allah and Pamphlet-Christ
do stand under Silver
                                     Here.. set, be... appreciate some mound
                                      of stone, the dam is let
                                       water flows, old stone castles stand.
                                       I am dehydrated. Even suffering is Bliss.
                Feeling Good is rather well, too. Is it preferable? Yes!
                But even this loss
                if people hate me,  what Me do I Sell other people?
Don't buy me?  It is not all about Me any how.
                So go eat candy---
or stuff your face. Or Run-run-run
or any of the a-bove.

                                                       Up A-Bove           by guilt I meant
                                                        skewered perception
                                                           of static lint.
                                                         Misperception
                                                            can herd a mass
                                                           The Boot of ISness
                                                            can bust an Ass.

The Bust of the Maiden
doesn't stewer and eat grass
                        The Puma can be pet
                         but not herded en mass 

                                                The rims of this wheel, where did that wrench go off to?
                                                                 Day-time, day-time,day-time heat!
                                                               Sank-me-in,
                                                              The bohemians have thrown me to the Wolves.
                                                                  But I love wolves and eating bohemians
                                                                                  so the troubles on them.

Bent wheels still turn
but will turn so much better
with straightened rods
across the maiden's bust.

 

Is this the end of the line? Every one says that.

Right here... this X.  It could be a cross, sideways.
Lazy!? No, it can't be lazy.
Even a stone works... a still stone,
works in ways subtle... but, lazy!?

No, it is only the end of one side of the surface. The end of a flat

of a side of a cube.
Not youth and not aged.
Go, go again... More effort
to know to sweat. To pulse, to rise.
                                    Show me some one famous who can master the expression of self-doubting
                                     you don't care if I say this
                                    but if you find some "star"
                                       We lick the HEELS of
                                       and they always hide their lows                                                    that is a lazy star. and not a star at all.

 

It never looks a steep as it feels

like when going to show and tell
how steep it seems and feels.
It could be flat and seminal mixture
merely, purposefully,
made to look steep, up and up.

fold up. unfold. fold up. unfold.
   There are still inventions and innovations
to improve infinitely old performances
like sleep
and keeping insects away from your armpits and pores
and to free the prisoners from telemarketing buildings.

The morning cannot wait. And nobody says a thing.
In fact, nobody had ever said a thing.
Not at all, at all.
                                                Only people got out of their vehicles
                                                 and came together. and they held hands.
                                                   and all together they rotated
                                                                         in a circle
                                              and counter-clockwise they went
                                                 and that is how all their time was spent.
                                                    Once they had wagered in relativity
                                                       they were surrounded by Pumas and eaten.



If you are interested in being loaded with sufferable advertisements and forcefed these these tactical expressions which are dangerous, also with little drawings, some quips thrown out in to the phantom pasture will actually be collected
and done-up all pretty in a publication.
It is nameless
and I had held off from printing the darn thing
due to considerable self-convincing
that it would fail or be unseen, completely,
and though that may be so I'll print some up anyhow. & continue the galoot-march of trial & trial & trial

12 Species of Human interacting with a GamePlan

You're not beat up looking
and every thing's clean
every one's sheen as
carbonated glass
So go skrye, Some go cry
Naw,
You're the Queen of survival.

The rain gushes,   clears smoke.
Anyone belongs.
Blackbirds dye
to get bright tips
to light the dawn;
take cider sips. Look to trust
the
Mechanism
You're the Paige
right on arrival.








Some singe-stink
by memory-lane
with the traffic-jam-dance
and discount prayers
said in vain.
Sometimes a pulse
speaks louder
than a pocket-book strain
You're the King of soft words
and nestled sprickets gone
tidal



8:00 INDIE-rock at the local barnes and noble and the left headphone bud broke out. Can drown it out on the right channel but all of the woah-ohhs and ooohiee-eees are detected. It's so cheery and wimpy and soulless and yucko.   They're playing the whole album. Something impersonal is detected by the music like it is totally everything-is-okay yippy-dippy and the band is walking around down a roadway and things are falling and hitting them in the head, but it is okay-- and alright, and woah-woah. There is a pleasure in not liking it. Some facet of defining being by 'staying the heck away from that stuff.' I don't think it is really indie rock though, I think it's something else.  Sort of drone-pop and mock-rock. Need blood and beauty and disdain, and desperation followed by triumph. Something with edge and punch but not mindless.

Food plants are still growing excellently. Plan ah plan to raise more.. soldiers-- an army of edibles not endorsed by that slain Green Giant.

Take Vit. C., Start at St John's Wort.  Get a night of a little better amount of sleep.  Fit-in resizing more images. All thumbnails finished. More than three galleries so that's plenty nifty. There's probably some auto-resize machina program to do it all but maybe it's neuro-whamming mediation, going through the stride of all that clickity click. Doing this when time-allows any how.

Heard sirenesque cackles from some fox or coy family at a morning-ish job. They were excited and celebrant about something. I picked up a stick and walked towards them with a camera recording but did not get in on the location. Maybe ainn'a coupla-days some animal's remains would be there if I check.. iunno. Related: I did find an owl feather far on in to wherever-world.
Thankful to find that. Need a good feather-finding season. Last year's seems to run alongside apple-finding measures, meaning there was a drought in that. If feathers follow appleness, and this year is looking good already for bloom, surely I can find a partridge feather. If I dream it I'll be happy enough.

Had good practice at being a damn-fool earlier.
Yeah but it issain't what I was going for. Cool-- some project to work on.
Endup lookin like a creep. A creeeeeeep. *Furrows brow* I'm not nice, I'm a mean guy.
Mean and demanding and always know what to say. 
Yo, Chariot, those are some heavy waves.
Perhaps taking ques from Coronation Street will help the societal survival ongoings on an energetically empathic wooden wheel.
Sez to get in to the Centre of the Wheel
but life without its ruffle and edges and fringe
has no turnings at all really.
So with all that clash and clang I just really want to express through sound or image or something
something that doesn't seem otherwise to get-along
trying to have a normal life
on planet Apocalypse Polysyllable,
whatever that is. 
Don't give me sympathy by any chance,
It's for me to fix at my own and I'll work at it at my own.
The intensities at facing self-failure, not if but when survived
add tallies to genetic-memory
and probably localized shielding for situations to be able to live through
better and more easily.
You're on Earth,
You get your suffering like any body else.
There are beautiful things
But don't bullshit about it
that at simulation eartheach and all earn their way back to the Right
of remembering who they are, what they are,
what they are apart of
and called that Energy, Electricity of Godism
all of the masks and ideas of strict unchangeability
seem as wish fulfillments
to not self-change or move ahead and ramble,ramble,ramble.
You know it. You feel it.
We're not naive about the something-more
and it's not fairy-tale like
because there is great to it
called the Hidden Self
but the hidden self isn't all boogly-woogly, also.
Laughter could not exist other-wise
because of Ouroboros.No, I just wish you to know for mankind to live
from the Golden Heart.
So make a metaphor to prove to others
so not to live from the poisoned Gut.



Laughter: at a nail through the leg or a hawthorne through the side or a garden tool
bruising the shin all hectic-like
but an emotional-social error
and the flags of day-to-day risen
to nag and nag and nag at the situation.
Q. of Cups and trying to take credit for all string-levels at the same time.
Character study!

 Heard some good stories, though, yesterday, and had good peanut butter crinkly cookies while listening to them. Good movie tastes and pliable space to get words through. Animals sniff each other out and the similarity-abundance calls for life-time recital. Recitation brings life back-to.


Ya get in to town, and words bounce off the weird shapes and schedules. Connecting is a 'sniff out the situation' kind of situation but there is threat in the claustrophobic density of hard, heavy, threatening machinery. Bygones exist but what exactly is their deal?  Everybody has an inkle of the human-game going on. You are an alien pretending to be a human being or you are a tree dreaming of being one of these sapien-things. You are a process, a capability. What of a moaning frustration and how about the cataclysmic un-ease where the natural-way is not ongoing. Collectively,
remembering the Great Thrashing (worldwide event)
which induced into the mass subconscious
the fear of the Total Self
due to the responsibility
of a Thoth-Dionysus-Isisian dance.  
Also, take back the name of the Goddess Isis because she is more important and Sacral
than yet another gang of cronies going and ripping off words with meaningful vibration-elements,
but that is enough of that for now.

Paint Gold onto token-like stones.  Draw value onto those stones. Just bury them wherever in random places.. probably far, seemingly unfindable. Let them be, like that. 
Leave prizes for people.. in places where they won't foul them up.
Probably sounds all occulty-mystic-jibberish talk. Another trap of definition. 
I forgot what other word there was for that. Probably statue-clammerin'.

double sided tape situation

Forgive whatever inaccurate judgements. Move more towards the Golden Heart.
Try new food. Settle down on bombarding friends w handwritten letters. Under-stand.
Watch a Mickey Rooney movie. Stop being so self-centered in credit for emotional and
kin-esthetic events.
INDUCE Nervous-situations manually and witness in realtime how silly it is to be nervous whatsoever. Do this until it can not be done any more.  Make it so that it is not one of those saying it is easier than doing it kind of mouse-mazes. Wish the "world" would believe you
when communicating even the thought of __fill in the blank__(your personal movie script here.)