Not in the way I
Look through these eyes
which water but instead
Of sadness entranced upset
Near to death love
making where though and
Design laugh at their own
Gluttony and ill usage and
away from me i say no not here and
away from itself i hear nothing for you
are here within me but away
Comet and the see to hear blues with
Everything to give but nothing to lose
And the far off sights are much too bright
And inside you hear yourself crying
Not to mtters or mold your soul
With what your parents said to you
Ordered you to be bold and
The aftermath of your own tightened slack
Makes you wonder if growing up was an actual
Choice in the matter of the batter which is
The family foundation were games are played
For keeps and children weep as they keep
Toiling on as adults just for bigger and better things
Come into the waves of a brain malfunctioning
No face for ye' faith meand nodding to the higher
Ones whose noses are broken and the lips cracked
The spinning brain of hurts doughnuts and Americana
Rip offs selling the flag by the millions to turn a profit
For the moronic billionaires who think no one is watching.
Watching with their hats turned sideways and trying to
Escape old age and grey hair and sagging ball sacks and
Poor english and worser bread, stale with their mother's
Ghost hovering on the shoulder of their pouting diamond
Drenched wife as if madness grew a larger pair **** within the
Hilarity of connection of concoction of happiness and
Satisfaction and a longing to burn the entire ******* down
Just to rebuild it the way you see and you do see it and the way
You feel it used to be and perhaps, maybe, could be and where
Experimentation is now a center fold for the dock workers and the
Laborers of the world to spit and ******* and cry over in their
Twisted and rusty beds for inside their pea brains and melted
Mouths filled with colgate and beer, they slobber over the excess
And humiliation and celluoid dreams of **** and *** and spreads
That would make any grandmother of 37 weep and Mozart meander
On the veranda, contemplating smooth jazz and the way he would like
Not to be buried with the hat trick hockey nick who swore he saw
You fall in love before and that sobriety was the touch of the Christian
Way of life and ye' far out and tormented young ones meant nothing
By what they said at the rally and they do believe in the good of the
White government and we are headed toward a technological maelstrom
Of the golden age of the HUMAN RACE but alas I hope I decipher I pray to
No God but whoever has the ears and eyes and arm fat to listen with their
Splintered consciousness and their painted red toenails and girlfriends who
Whisper they have always loved another and how TRUE UNTRUTH IS and
How vindictive we rant on and read on and hope and believe that the end
Is the end but it is only the end for you and their will be new blood and new eyes
And new minds and we will grow old but the rivers water will be recycled, as we
Will be recycled into the dust and the mud and the rubble to further build the streets
As the street makers and the bread winners will smile as they think they are the
First ones to think up such a crafty, inventive invention but hierarchies are on the horizon
And I remember I was born with a name that I never grew to know or fall in love with
Or defend or keep close to my heart for the heart is weary hunter and it ventures on
With or without the body.
Note to self.
Recall the last rite before you begin on to the next one.
History has spilt its blood and its fair share of orange juice, try not to remember the numbers but remember the amount of burned chairs.
Note to self, returned.
The heaters on and the soul is not dancing but jiving like icing on a three year olds birthday cake.
Submission time to the chief, submission time
To those other guys, whose faces I've never smelt, but who are there waiting and whining that the times are no longer a changing.
Keep up the smiles, keep out the frowns.
Negativity is the attribute of the terrorist. Don't be a terrorist.
All fine men and women have once in their life been truly scared.
One ten till the train leaves.


Good night major split hairs.

On the second of the fort
Nights beckoned a call dim
Lit by ill fated mechanisms that
Were men and women and
Children and the forgotten dream of
What was meant long ago and was is
Meant now but not followed through.

With heaven comes hell and hell fire and
Clouds of white with shelling from
Wars not of this world or the next or
The one's thereafter and lingering history,
With its bells and trinkets and tombstones,
That have been weathered but are still not gone.

Memory not mourning, pictures in a frame lit
From the inside out and drinks were there
When we were not meant to be there like a
Kiss on a flower you picked at an age where
Life was not known and death was even
Farther away for it existed not in the eyes of yours
But in everyone else around you, except for the
Other children of course but oh' of course.

If your trying to get the part of the stuff
That makes you recall the upstairs of the
Idiocies of the room romance that restricts but
Contains life and halters life and stifles life with
That one must recall a past life where tears
Mean nothing when you produce them too often.

Can of the hypocritical malice of mis-informed family
Foundations and we break into the minds of the way
It should be and the way it shouldn't be and yet here
When we gaze out across the wide spread of the world
And its many ways it spells out with a God's own language
The morning of the ear who listens and speaks when not spoken
To breaking every single rule of the word and smiling
Throughout the whole ****** thing.

Canons of repetition where life winces and the wife begins to wheeze
And fall, her dress is now clear and her eyes just don't seem to be
Where we are now I believe that money is the root of this soon to be dead
Tree and streets are now empty as the moon casts its silver glaze and
The breeze is now naked with her bra on the floor cast in straw while
The wizards write their spells and comb their hair and draw out plans
For the next great fall but watch the fireworks and the way they hail and
Crawl throughout the entire bawl and Ol' Ezra P. mass amounts of rage
To bring to the stage but here ye' O great one this place is for us all.

Here in the house of the not that is shared but all is seen here
Where the wind blows to no east and no west and no south and
No other way that you believe to get headed to the world of
The no names and experience makes you wise and yet old
And remembered for the drinks you paid for but especially for
The ones you forgot to pay for but that is what friends are for.

Omnivores in latitudes that matter not to the public eye but
To the ear of the Lord that is not everyone's savior but
Chosen just for the right eye so within that decree of mastery
We entrance the light and shovel up the leaves leaving the last
Way of things to be the first way of things when the lights
Are quickly turned off and on and off and on again and again;
Stars are naked until the sun rises in your hometown and the radio
Turns on.

And the background music chimes with a willingness of a cockroach but
Holds the beauty of a **** statue found in the under toe of a lost
Beach in a lost land forgotten in time but embraced by eternity and
Though does not dwindle its numerous names or its many ways
Of being for the hour does shackle us all but here in high array of
None other then eight times the way through the cobbled up in the
Attic of the fiercest neanderthal dictator with ideas holding truths upon
Truths that in the end mean nothing  for advancement is not determined
But continued upon as long as we forget the past and look to the future hymn
Of the childless winged' beasts that were once forgotten but now embraced
Angels.

Not of this world but of the entirety of the reality of banality
Breathing back and forth inhaling and exhaling releasing the
Mind of the mares of the wandering rewinds of infinite space
And inside the eyes of the highest levee which has broken but
Has not yet spilt holding back its power for the remainder of the
Year and catacombs upon catacombs of forgotten text of never
Forgotten men recalling their former lives and their former passions
And the hastiness of their possession of the word and the avoidance
Of the death touch the death mark the black spot upon us all.

Dog on a hill cloud high in the sky nut on the ground no not a sound
Frost on your fingertips toe of the boot covered a steel dull mud
Suds from a water rushing miles away nodding branches of a dead tree
Wind through the high grass birds in the sky that fly but not chirp
Sun in the sky rice fields burn brown crickets rub their thighs together
Not here but in the corn stocks and pig stocks brown in the reverse order
Platters of pinch salt and pepper underneath the floor boards creek for
Creak and dollar for dollar we make the rounds and we do not frown.

And the meet of the neat make their rapid conversations in dual order
Where they tell themselves this but I hear that and you make what you want
Unless you ain't got the stuff but if your lucky and if your smart you'll
Grab the oven and bake that **** but in case you don't see the sunset and
Your buried without your toes look for your voice because that's the only
Way you'll get to know the stars in the sky or the dirt on the ground for
The fun is growing but the lurkers are smirking for they got the pennies and
They got the nickels and these streets are breaking so you gotta' start thinking
Of a way to get outta' this place and FAST or else you'll be staring down the
Barrel of a 33 to ONE typing and writing and peeping around the corner of
Your dear old ***** that hasn't found in a home in years but don't look too
Down because one day that ONE will come around either by taxi or by train
Or by some kind of war and if you've got the gut and the money and the honey to
Keep her tight and alright and flying that lovers kite then your bound to keep
Yourself from the giggles and nearer to the harmony of the way things ought to
Be but may not really be but perhaps can be if you will it around and swill it with
Your will making sure your lies and that white or ain't that black or ain't that real
Or you ain't lying at all but stay truer to the truth with the water resolution of the
Insipid insecurity of the first love you thought you knew but now see that it was
The one three or four later and how right I am in knowing nothing and knowing
Everything and letting the mind skip and play and register new friends in the new
Cities and the new alleys and the smiles that break across the ice like a crack of of a
Whip and counting the days ones gone blowing through the high valley and the low
Trenches of war I do not wish to go to but may be forced too because this man believes
Just what he says.

Articles of clothing,
writ by the wearer,
Particles of loathing,
spit by the swearer

We wear our souls on our sleeves

hand-paid machines
print letters of jest
on wallet-proof vests

sifting society's sincerity
through media's selective filter
cleverly diffusing the difference
between adverbs and adverts

Green is the new black

Trading black paper
for greener souls

-or-

Greed is the new snack

Feeding omnipotent omnivores
with insatiable goals

The bell sighs,
"Let freedom toll."

In a far distance land, away from humans
There you can see a great forest of beauty
A dense forest with moist green moss
And mighty trees stand proud in its green leaves
Under the warm breeze of the summer season;

If you go deeper unto the green land,
Beyond the tall trees and silence of the forest
You'll see a wondrous place a city can never offer
Because you'll see what nature's true beauty is;
There you can see diversity in animals and plants;

Somewhere into the forest, a creature can be seen
They are free to roam around in their own habitat
And as nighttime comes, they retreat to their homes
Into their own dens for shelter, protection and comfort
As they sleep and wait for the sun rises in the morning;

I honestly say they are truly a majestic creatures
Called Grizzly Bear also know as Brown Bear
They are species of mammals with interesting behavior
For they hunt and mate in the warm breeze
And hibernate in the cold winter season;

Grizzly Bear also have unique characteristics:
Because of the white tips found in their furs
Especially in the shoulders and back part,
It creates an illusion of being grizzled;
Hence the name Grizzly bear was given;

Grizzly Bears are omnivores, a plant and meat eater;
They are large, they are hunters, they can fish salmon;
They enjoy eating berries and nuts in the forest;
They are brown and huggable creatures
But don't dare hug them;

A Grizzly Mother Bears are great parents too
Like any devoted mothers, they teaches their young;
Mothers taught cubs to dig and hunt with their claws
Also how to stand up tall in their two legs!
Like how a adult Grizzly Bear living in the forest should be.

“Dig in the garden with the other omnivores,
and get me some lightening, not too ripe.”

i stumble out the door with my fingers and toes
arcing against the cold metal earth.
i wear rags with Armani scrawls;
barely enough to shield my skin from the chilling heavens.

we chew out the roots of nearby trees,
moist as ***** and tough as tendon.
we gnaw and gnaw but spit out only steel
and breathe in only soot.

shrapnel finds its way beneath my fingernails, and i wince.
it's not a new Pain, but a repeated one we’re told to relish.
“When splintered, push them in and
sing a song about It.” and we do.
though the melodies vary, the lyrics say the same thing:
it Hurts to Hurt ourselves, but not enough to stop.

i sigh and sit;
are we really expected to find this lightening,
or is this just unconscious hunt She wanted to put us on?
whichever way, whichever way,
you’ll be fed at the end of the day, i instinctively hum,
as i resume ripping through petroleum roots.

It was a Wednesday, the most uninteresting of days. You had decided to go out for a walk to the local downtown thrift store. It was hot like the womb, and you needed something to do. When a arrived you see a bin, "ten cent books" it reads. Looking in it you are immediately drawn to the newest hardback book in the bin. It seems to be an autobiography. "You wouldn't want that," the cashier says, "no one seems to understand it." You are intrigued as to why. The page turns to 127 and you see something unexpected. Letters so far apart and strung together in the absent white sheet. You wonder if this is some kind of abstract/alt literature garbage those younger are into these days. Turning back over to the cover you see clearly, "myself and no one else" written in a child like sprawl. The authors name is simply bannered across the bottom in the same fashion. The book is dark blue and heavy- even though it looks the opposite. You are drawn into this book immediately, throw ten cents on the counter- and leave. Scanning pages on the way home, interpreting and decoding, like it was your first Nancy Drew novel all over again. The book whispers to you it's secrets. By the time you have arrived at your home you seem to begin to understand, yet you begin to deconstruct. Beyond page 127 was page 128 and page 129, and on and on they went. No real content or words were written, only ideas. The mystery of page 127 and all the other 127s had not seem to unfold itself to you. Maybe beginning at page one would help, you say as you flip again to the cover page. The book exhaled into you as the pages creaked. The first pages only had pictures of the universe and galaxies in black and white. This continued for many pages and stopped when the spaces began. the words began to unfold as you read closely, a few read "ideas" by page 80. There were a few key words, "universe" "idea" "self" "myself" "womb" "embryo." You felt a silent agreement with the book. Could one simply sum up their life into a few measly pages? People do not even develop a sense of self until they are a few months old. Time is but a concept, people think it moves so quickly because they simply become accustomed to it. As they develop and grow this becomes apparent, "life is short," but that is never the case. People start out as ideas, is that when the concept of life starts? You are not alive but you are living as an idea. This is as  opposed to conception as a beginning point. Or is it that you are always simply living, because matter cannot be created nor destroyed. You were simply rearranged to create a breathing body. The author and many authors were forever existing, their page 127 was all the same. Ideas within a universe. Ideas within an omnivores. Ever expanding. Their stories never end, because people will simply rearrange and expand as something new. The book had caused you to think, maybe it was all pretentious nonsense- or maybe something else. Suddenly it was midnight. You were so enthralled and intrigued by the half empty pages time had beaten you in it's own game. You placed the book down and decided to simply think about it later.  Because there is always more time.

lives in fresh water
national fish of Japan
omnivores, koi

they are omnivores
they are fish with bright colors
make good pets, clown fish

verdant green acres covered the planet of the apes
like a petticoat junction
donning barrel of skinny dipping monkeys.

Once drought stricken vast landscape
far as the eye could see
suddenly flush with promise
of budding new shoots
and ladders for vine companions
harkened prelapsarian Edenic prominence,
when mother nature resplendent
videre licet morning glory of primeval Earth
pregnant with multitudinous color pallette
regaled bipedal forerunners

of humankind with
panoramic pristine kingdom,
where legendary tropical verdure
availed countless plant and animal species
teeming with flora and fauna
offering veritable Smörgåsbord
to plethora of herbivores and omnivores,
where expansive webbed wide world
subtly hinted, negotiated and suggested
horn and hardart of good and plenty.

Lush vegetation adrip with downpour aftermath
tempted all creatures great and small
all things wise and wonderful
to emerge from their respective hideaway
courtesy the palpable pulsation of Gaia
exuding potential power to proliferate
gifting superlatives linkedin to survival of the fittest
blessing natural advantageous propensities
to buzzfeed capital one reproductive traits
redeeming symbiotic qualities
with generations of beneficial mutations
at evolutionarily optimal junctures
though devoid of thinking beings
to witness or record phenomenal events.

Nasty short beasts proliferated
refining technique to do the wild thing
stir (fried) crazy
as concupiscent bison teen in estrus
while shuffling off to Buffalo,
(or where that city
in the United State of America
would take shape)
hashtagging where x marks the spot
made within man/woman caves
that did be hoof anthropologists
even nearly a bajillion years later.

Imagine dragons galumphing
during flintstone age
culture club wielding proto humans
impossible mission their mental acuity to gauge
of **** neanderthalensis
very intelligent and accomplished humans,
Whereby current evidence from both fossils and DNA suggests that Neanderthal and modern human lineages separated at least 500,000 years ago. Some genetic calibrations place their divergence at about 650,000 years ago,
nevertheless amongst the scattered clans
there probably lurked an anonymous sage
smart enough to induce quantum leap
did jump/kick start scattered population
with wits about them to sustain their existence.

Appearance of super duper wiseacre
invariably punctuated **** sapiens
progenitors as an unknown mover and shaker,
who helped fledgling forebears
of contemporary people
to discover trappings to weasel out
from being between a rock and a hard place
and squirrel away linens and things
for anticipated future creature comfort or necessity.

Imponderable and inscrutable poetic philosophical meanderings of mine (expounded upon while I nourished myself on a snicky snack prepared by the missus – graham ******* with Almond butter plus Rhubarb jam) found me most unexpectedly tangentially linkedin with the invaluable scientific knowledged bequeathed to civilization courtesy the greatest thinker for Grecian formula(s).

Noah (way) did Archimedes
(born c. 287 BCE, Syracuse, Sicily
[Italy]—died 212/211 BCE, Syracuse)
discover flood insurance nor prevention,
but hands down he ranked as the most famous
mathematician and inventor in ancient Greece.

He is especially important for his discovery of the relation between the surface and volume of a sphere and its circumscribing cylinder.

He is known for his formulation of a hydrostatic principle (known as Archimedes’ principle) and a device for raising water, still used, known as the Archimedes *****.

There are nine extant treatises by Archimedes in Greek.The principal results in On the Sphere and Cylinder (in two books) are that the surface area of any sphere of radius r is four times that of its greatest circle (in modern notation, S = 4πr2) and that the volume of a sphere is two-thirds that of the cylinder in which it is inscribed (leading immediately to the formula for the volume, V = 4/3πr3). Archimedes was proud enough of the latter discovery to leave instructions for his tomb to be marked with a sphere inscribed in a cylinder.

Measurement of the Circle is a fragment of a longer work in which π (pi), the ratio of the circumference to the diameter of a circle, is shown to lie between the limits of 3 10/71 and 3 1/7. Archimedes’ approach to determining π, which consists of inscribing and circumscribing regular polygons with a large number of sides, was followed by everyone until the development of infinite series expansions in India during the 15th century and in Europe during the 17th century.