Feb. 16th, 2006 | 01:19 pm
bring me low to talk of you and I
and I eat autodestruction for breakfast
while its all organic still
and I am acquainted with you and I
As you are Fully ... full, full of me
and we eat deconstruction for lunch with a grin on our faces
and I choke on a knife or a fork or perhaps on my tongue
and I talk through my teeth and we walk

mood: 've never
Feb. 22nd, 2006 | 10:03 am
.and i’ve never seen such a change
so great a change that moved me
'cross the frequency of the water
and i stayed restless in repose
as i positioned myself atop
to see the sight of the waxing of the moon
and i was equal in her color
and light was never the same
and i lay 'cross the water
as i was reposing before
and light was never the same
Mar. 3rd, 2006 | 04:47 pm
It is of dissonance the dance and they move in the symphony
Dying when another is born, as if to make room for a fresh dancer.
And a curse on their lips falls, and it hangs from them full of grace
and grateful are those who walk with the gift of this curse on their lips
and less are those who stay quiet for these
and less are these days even more so than before when
in ecstacy an arousal of curses is felt through their mouth
and the eyes call forth indignation or maybe, man-made fantasies
and they kill or get killed by each or the other
and the melody ...
and the melody starts the symphony and they dance un-resumed
And they point to the skies as if to fly but wings dare not grow
and the water is heavy of remorse and it falls
as if to imply the anguish of tears set forth by the skies...
It is so difficult to discern the qualities of a being in motion
ready to strike or be struck, ready to kill or already dead, ready to laugh or already crying, ready to move or already moving, ready for insanity or already insane
and so much easier it is to die than to be born.
( 2020 Revision - and the same difficulty exists for those who are born and those who have to die. Death is not easy and neither is life. )
today I was not of myself
as I was of yesterdays
and even more so of tomorrows
when I will not know my self.
and from nothing he carved music and sculpted my ears and then beg me to listen ...
Aug. 9th, 2006 | 03:18 pm
mood: dislocated
Edited (June 8th 2021)
it was all yesterday, all of yesterday’s' totality was inside of me
i learned a word that i thought i would never forget until i closed my eyes,
and my addiction to sleep needs to stop.
and i forgot what i wrote i my hand, ( the warning)
i forgot of the father who broke the skies and my house became bare with the wind, (I forgot the lesson here)
and i think too much and it’s never enough, enough never, but its objective, mostly subjective. (It’s all up to me now)
(A)ll of yesterday was in my eyes as a derogatory means of salvation, (as a pitiful jolt of the human condition) as a plea to the conclusion of this exclamatory way of existence ( as an end to this constant thinking) that is so riden of the logic of men and ideals of utopias filled with MEN filled to the top with men and their logic of ethics and the simplicity that is now left to the machine to execute ... and we grow slow. All of this was in my eye yesterday on the left and on the right because i own 2 of them but they see as if i had only one. Only one. And i grow worried for you, totally weary that you may have to read something this mad and condemn yourself with the responsibility of knowing.
Aug. 10th, 2006 | 12:54 pm
can you refuse to acknowledge me even when am mimicking all of you with intent, all of you is in me as if to say that I am made of you, the insanity you rent i own, and i eat grapes with it and bread, grapes and bread. and am mechanical like you, much like all of you. specially you with the eye that you admire so, and if you grow blind?
Aug. 16th, 2006 | 04:18 pm
when do they commence to see? this leads to madness...
like the sea you are blue with the sky
and the frame on your mind is possessed with untimely thoughts
hearing the vociferous speech i would know what you say
but my mind is already made up using references alone
i couldn't imagine what you see
i can't debate your theory of color
your green might be true to the brown of my eyes and
your blood might be darker than mine, this much I know to be true
this is just, as you walk like i do, we pluralize the land.
it is always the equal i see it is always the same.
Do u understand me?
is it fierce my benevolence, is it violent my caress?
is it more than what u hope for?
is this mouth worth more than your intent? is it obsolete or evolutionary...
are these clothes enough for individuality?
my eye without boundaries is enough perception still, and within my mouth lies more that what you're used to.
more and enough.
I've been desensitized slowly and surely I would have lost myself with indulgence had it not been for the satisfaction of staying alive, of inhaling even deeper, of knowing.