Though he can't walk, he still wanders through the corridors of his memory. Peering through his framed lenses, he waits for the image focus.

A monument,
So resplendent!
The gleam of
That light ,white
brick, casting the
grainy shine
of a castle.

These bricks were laid, by family brought together
immersed in the collective, tangible suffering of the world.
Family brought together
by truth.  The human condition.

In a way it was beautiful,
mimicking the opening of a nightly
flower to the star’s light.

In a way it was sad
like the task of Sisyphus,
marching ever up the hill so hard.
  
However it came about, it forced a channel
of inspiring wisdom. As if intelligence dragged
it’s finger through the sand to create empty space
for the effervescence, paths for thoughts and reactions.

Life evolved, layering the infrastructure of free will,
driving it forth like an enraged charioteer, bouncing back and forth
between dissonant realization cacophonic syncopation
Trying absurdly to find the resonant tones.

The rest of the memory
Lucid now,
As if the dirt dropped so violently into my cup of water
Finally settled.

The memory stands propped, on the hobbled thing I call my mind.

We became vehement paradox
Warring day and night

as if we were a polar pair of docs.
We recklessly constructed infection

and remedy that we might
Try so sublimely to cleanse the setting horizon

of mosaic shadow mask grins,
clouds masking the task.

ending with such a blast, as wide as
the gaping maw of the endless

known only as desire.

These dusty eyelids watched the horizon lose it's light
and in perfect harmony become blind
to it's shadow. Remembering softly was my duty.

Dreaming was always a taste of what they call the little death.
Now that I have remembered, death whispers to me.

Beckoning as if an old friend, seeping through like
the floral aroma  good coffee.

Though what you are looking for is not lost.
So you indulge
the many cosmos with the one
thing life really needs.

The presence of a cheerful excavation
An uncovering process
Top
To Bottom--

My glance is always softened
By the way this one folds
her cardigan
     Alongside her sarong.
No, not so wrong,
     so right. It reminded me,

The glowing pile of her identity
Trampled upon by the passion
That heated, viscous piece of time

Where

magnets Seemed most permeable.

Oh, the sound of my ego
hitting the floor,
As if pianos could play backwards

Combined with the vessel,
Into which we pour
lost moments

The sequences of ourselves most vulnerable…

Those moments of awakened dream that we spend paralyzed
Ghosts gripping, eyes bright as they are
midnight fright,

But still she is there
Angelic form framed freshly
In the moon's most grandmotherly light

Such elegant nourishment…as if to say "pinky's up now then; good show"

The space around the form is surrounded
By the ever ordered, static grid.
But also chaotic, dynamic electric fur licking the opaque edges of dark off the wall.

I can move again,
I'm on the mend.

Together we’ll face the quakes, the winds, and the inky fires
And no river will hold us helpless by it's serpentine fluid dynamics
Like the grounds they hold captured, eternally etched through gushing grace.

Why be held captured to the ground my stars, when through love we can fly?

This depression gives the impression

that the expression of a burnout is…

me

living and loving intently free

prison depends on jailhouse babies and legal **** ; weee!

we must organize expression of a quantum size, to re-realize more food and supplies

its such a surprise that id be thinkin this, engineering instruments with a pnuematic hiss

geared towards the questioned technocolypse….

“…well here on the graph we read an elipse, a parabola, and a demonic kiss…”

But whats this?

im’ channeling some quick quips ; alluring as a brothel’s contained hips with the open smile of sideways lips….

my daring is preparing all the world for destructive repairing

cause the frogs and the rains are staring

at this desolate earth

a burnt out hearth

with smouldering ashes, speaking of a crying birth

while the midwife is sick and shy with little self worth and curse; because a as a witch she doth rehearse

while the moonlights smiling and the phones texting and dialing

“Whats wrong?”==”Are you ok?”

“…but come on?”==”Is there any other way?…”

[please oh please let me stay in this old and bloodied fray; where the battles had axes and handles

where there were stories of travels, to faraway places leading to exotic geographic stasis]

caught in the moment of thought, a moment of fright…

until we stop and put a light to these wierd words

we wont know what the birds have heard….

Click crshhh….*

BURN little match like the wood you are!

combustion of suggestion set ablaze from afar

a flame throwers burned hands

while the pained sower , frustrated, changes plans

because in the end one one really understands

the torment of a floment spent eternally alone in atonement.

(=purgatory)

Where all you want to do is get on the phone, external validation felt at the tone,

but it really ain’t ****

because you are crying while its dialing and your out of minutes…

so check this bits of imaginary meaning and ****

ponder and quit

when you seek to make amends and introduce fake men to our imaginary friends

i keep on thinking…keep on blinking

wishing for emotion to extend

SO I think the words

AND I write whats heard

but haven’t YOU heard

from the little ittie birdie whos been certainly flying, singing and free

that im not mentaly sturdy, quirky, and ******…

LOGICALLY

iknow

sophistry

ishow

emotionally

Hol…………­……………loW

I guess it just goes to show that when you at home your never reallly  alone, because to you, the voices do drone
about

how much sandpaintings and ***** can be blown,….

away with a CLICK…BoooM

beaten with a stick….AH

shoed a away with a kick….

START my heart! I know better than this!

so I better think quick

before i stay mentally sick

as an alien who has forgotten it’s world

got on a roller coaster; spinned and whirled

till im spun and twirl’d

on this game we call life, with simple **** and complex hype,

hives of concepts meanings and thoughts….to derive daily quit failing

i miss haley :( , even phailee….

so I ask little voice in my head , since everyone has left will you stay instead?

come a little closer and hop into bed

so we can share the warmth of one last self-referencing infinity loop….

…..BEFORE i wake up and forget whats ashore

because im out at dream sea with clouds free and galore

but as soon as i stop thinking i know ill return to the me that i abhore

with pain and saddness deranged

omit school so classless and strange

as a failed out actress sick with mange.

but i know these negatvie moments are just flashes , to make me appreciate self motivated happiness…

so here you go

its me on the page, skelly the sage….

i just hope to god that I could set the stage 4 nirvana or heaven, we reach zion in seven

6

5

4

3

2

1

I love you.

Its over

i won myself over

like a sad kids redrover

thanks for letting  m3 share these freestyle thoughts i kant bear

im  alone no more, i seem to have exhausted my sadness store

and after venting i realize…. its a lot ******* bettor.

“Isn’t it eeeire howletting yourself feel sad

can make you feel soo much better?”

They say i’m creative as a reversed mime;thinking outta the box
my minds found a way to rehearse time while it stops the clock

tick tock
what time is it?

prison block – on some infinite minute ****.

neurons firing

pew

change of management declared- archetypal hiring–whoo
“Do you specialize in living positively?”
{I can try}
“Will you try to stay away from virus compositories?”
{oh me oh my!}

I live different lives as the same people:
go to the same church with different steeples.

Question the voice from my bed; oh **** am I dead?
tryn to lift my arms, but they filled with lead

where am I going and who have i led, to wander and ponder in the land of the dead

its this chilly necropolipse; filled with empty soul ships.

I can’t get warm here and so I fear

stricken by a paralysis , caught in the mists of myr

influenced by infected cysts, sickness adhere…

better deal quik through love metamorphosis
but I kan't…..—————-says who?
great big king boo!

he haunts me and taunts me into less than mediocrity

but its simplicity, don't deal with me, simply leave and then you’ll be free

of me and my moaning, *******, and pathetic groaning

but I’m simply freeflowing,

I guess I'm like an emo chick, dip in quick , then get out of it

like a quicksand pit you’ll stick quick – I do my job a bit to legit

while you sit and feel …………………………………………

……………………………this is some straight simple ****:

1+1= 2

but in my equation, I'm still left with none, no you'd think , but this ain't fun

“So leave!” I yell
“Get out of here!”

I’m lost and confused like a catholic queer
Am I sincere?

maybe

what morals appear?

when your without another and can't find your brother
simply steer clear quick!————————————————–>away from that skell *****

with his nonsensical lycrical pains

and paradoxical ego feigns

from left to up
side to side
always quik to hop
and hide n hide

non-attached….*******!-^-–<>re-attache these b-r-o-k-e-n__bits& p.i.e.c.e.s

so maybe one day you’ll do better than me

Just don’t listen to way i say and get away from me

EMO thoughts brought to light

need some ***- I think i might

oh wait , is this just a way for me…the pages in the journal get away from me

a psychiatrist in the pages….paid for free.

****, thanks ink, thanks journal, thanks ego and funeral

I just killed my ego , and it was the death of me.

I pray this…

That you die.

That you lose all you have.

That you possess nothing.

That you encounter Suffering.

I pray all this in order to facilitate that which needs to be.  

I pray that you die
    in order for you to know and appreciate life.

I pray that you lose all
    so that you have so that you stand to gain everything.

I pray that you might possess nothing
    in order to help you realize that there is no such thing as possession.

I pray that you might encounter Suffering
    so that you might transcend it.


I pray these things for you my love.

Even a Yogi *****.

Vindictive viral inception,
Sneaking in my thoughts pretending
ta be the Ego inside o’ me
No!Free! Digo me,
Quickly

WHEN,WHERE,HOW, WHY? come the questions
“No answers” quoth the clouds as they transfigure by.

I am done defending why
I don’t think I need to take my slice of the pie.
Take a look; exclaim ow, oh my
I got a piece of SKELL truth in my eye

Sincerely instead of me, so trickster
this shadow amphetamine

But my light is gone
A denser Vibration I adorn

One of Absorbtion,
no reflection ever
since this inception

…of attachment
…of suffering
…of another love

So in love it tears me apart
So in love it wears my heart

so instead of being asleep
I’m desecrating thoughts, tainting delete.

Making others worry and weep
as I sweep my gaze

From external to internal
infernal extension

referral to station
impatient inflation
we stand together in the dirt o’ the nation

so in love I seem to flirt
So in love I always hurt

I read the text on the screen….and **** NO!
It can’t mean…eye look, I scream.

Shock sets in, while I’m translated in the hug of a friend.

We lock eyes and she knows why…
Darkness sets in and she helps me cry;

tears from near realized fears,
tears from the suffering

desire steers.

My boy is in trouble
I’m in a hurry and on the double
STAND BACK
PLEASE SLACK
this information noose is too tight to *******…and my throats so t.i.g.h.t I can’t taste the air. This isn’t fair! What a cruel affair to send me into such disrepair.

Mental suffering burns like a flame, so I use cigarette burns to tame
the Pain in my heart…………..fading away.
My body cools off and with a different pain I can face the day.

So often I pray for the day where my loved ones can stay in zion with me, oh wait hypocrisy risin inside o’ me
please state, the ideas deriving me, Caged in my psyche, found the lock, but lost the key.

gotta get outta my mind, gotta get outta my body
opaque and dense, and way late for defense
Wee wait in such suspense for LIFE to dispense, of us and our love.

WhyohWhydotheseideasresideinme, if i leave my body will i be free, they think you justgottado1morethingtosee.

I just hope to god they don't try again.  I just can't take that part of the plan....
Please live. and be glad for it.