Flung out heartless, spun out
This young charlatain hung out to dry
Slung out like yesterday’s turkey on rye
And only the passerby’s know what to do~
Stare with a cold spit of tongue shit and chew
Masticate that mother with the yellow fangs of judgement
Till he’s too stamped to find a way through

If I’m to be honest, I don’t need the sky
I don’t need a castle, a title and I
don’t need to be this big feller of fate
A teller of tales, or a stater of stellar supposings

I don’t need elations to swell up like seas
I don’t need relationships sailing my breeze
I don’t need position, provisions and such
If I’m to be honest, I don’t need that much

Just to be useful, helpful and here
An opening heart and a mind getting clearer
Silence, non-violence and a general peace

And maybe the guide of a useful release

When it’s been so many days
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​since windshine swept through
So many bays at a swollen tooth moon
And the child inside me doesn’t know what to do

I remember a bottle, just swimming with poes
And a boy wanders through, and the bottle just grows…
And there’s spirits that fluster and plum in the corners
painting the world that he knows

Heartborn enchantment that soars for a spell
And pours from the mouth in a globbering swell
Till only a child, looking through glass
Fawns at the gones of the world going past

Is it big enough?  He wonders For me to fit through?
This hole in the bottle, leaking all that he knew

One of these days I’ll admit to my wrongs
Without all these dreams of my name put in songs

One of these days I’ll do something good
Without all the pride of the stance that I stood

One of these days I’ll surrender the notion
I’m just a pretender in an ocean of waves
Drowning a man in the way he behaves

One of these days when I’m not so obsessed
With the grays in my hair and the way that I’m dressed
in the flair of the plays of the oldy-time honchos
I’ll look at the earth through my dirty old poncho
And cook up a way I can actually give a damn
Back to a world that gave all that I am

I won’t  be this sham
I won’t be a maze
I’ll let go my stammers
And one of these days
I’ll know what it is to be bare

There out amongst all the beauty that bays
One of these days I’ll be there

I can feel the chaos rising in my bones
Swarming around me like horseflies

Puzzle pieces turning crooked, falling sideways

The world shrinking in a glitchy
clench of twitching nuance and mad dives

Damn gnats buzzing about me
Asshole world, cramping my style

Exploding spores of sneezy toxic languish.

Gotta free myself of this shoebox
Punch some holes through the lid
Take in that sweet cleansing O2
of omnipotence that they hid

Fill the lungs with presence
Close the eyes to flies
Relax in the space of a resonant rush
And switch to the pace of what lies

She read it from a book, of a witch of a coven
It’s the face of God you place and cook in taste within the oven
It’s the grace of all that is you wash and look upon a plate
That you’re squashing out of clay
And thrusting into fate

Make every moment, every beautiful state
A reason for bountiful grounded elations
Mounting in all of your counted relations
Fountaining forth in that way that it does
When surrounded by lovin’ each place that you look
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​~in the book of a witch of a coven

Thwacked with lobotomies
automating the hollow oddities
that follow…

I’ve seen them pluck spring chickens
to feed the fall
while summer gets no thought at all

Heard the stuffed screams
careening dripping alleys
in the fearful night

Felt that icy touch
clutch bony fingers around my heart
draining light eyeward

Smelt the ash cram burning hair
and teeth up my nostrils

Tasted the bitter defeat
that stops us, dead-tracked
to take on a wasted life
After so much goodness

I’ve tiptoad that edge
clutched by the throat and dangling
Swelling for purple release

Known that sense of endzone
The broken shudder of disrepair

But those are only men
Here and then
And never the truths that they live for

Upon the wicked waybursts strained
A melody, utmost unchained~

Ways of ways in wildborn days
In rays of rays of suns to shine
Where swirling pearls of curling girls
May laugh in all their whirling plays

And after setting sun to raise
The stars of all those long lost days
When childhood’s end was but a gaze
Beyond a rising moon

The tunes of tunes that play such loons
To laugh and dance in scatter plumes
Would rather chance such hardships much
Within their padded rooms

One day, one day, they say in strain
On day, my love, I’ll be unchained
To scamper wild and free

And till that day be done, until…
I am only me

Ominous wins
Congolmerate sins
Breaking the hold
of the shaking old pins
That held it together

Felled like a feather
from a bird in a flipping
disaster of weather that’s heard in a dripping
of torrential forevers
Struck by the shock
of lightning that ticks
at too late o’clock

Just a charred dinner now
Fed up with sins
An overdosed spinner
of ominous winds

I’m riddled with creatures that screech in my head
And scream from the bleachers my A-Game is dead

I’m breached by the reachers that claw through my skin
That jitter my features and hate where I’ve been

I fizzle and pop with a dizzying crop
of perennial chokeweeds that blanket atop
Every thought that I think
And I totter the brink
Of this cloistered and boistering
Chokehold that’s moisturing
Dried up old crankings
That frankly are oistering

All that I am
Clamped shut in a shell
of hardness and scarredness
Unpardoning hell

As I yell from my scallions
I simply must stay
No matter the splatter of tattering days
It’s going away…
It’s going away…
Despite how it crankles and heartshanks and sways
All I can say is it’s going away

Little by little
Seedling by seed
Pedal by pedal
Unnettling weeds

And despite how it havocs me still in these days
I’m just grateful there’s progress
I’m thankful there’s ways

Godspeediness
Lost in odd neediness
of a greedy
limp impeding
stream of thoughtless
tedious entanglements
Strangling the ranges
of the angles of my dangling
bespangled arrangements

How pragmatic–
Cutting off the head before
it falls prey to eratic
pained behaviours
Gotta keep on top the slavers
By proactively endangering
those who might become a slave
In this case, my behaviours

Cut em at the root
Prevent further growth
of any voice to take an oath
By rendering it moot

And all it takes is constant baking
Of the dough of God’s own making

Inhibiting the rising
by neutralizing yeast
With a constant string of useless
thoughts ever increased

Mystory historical
Phantasmagorical
Glancing flashes dancing past us
Just enchantment
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​rudimentary
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​elementious follicles

Solid goldenberry, now olden Barry’s solid
Voluntary stalling in a squalid
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​mall of scary sprawling porcelains
Forced to grin and bare it all

Morse aliens
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​dotting into dashes
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​spotting out the landscapes
​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​with their synchronistic slashes

Only ashes now
Blowing in the wind
Clouding up the vision
​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​of the dreams where we beginned

Traces of places that we’ve never seen
Places in places with spaces between

Insiding outers inviting in doubters
to turn clockward spirals
to chockful devouters
Unlocking the viral
inhabitators
skin invaders
getting in the skimpy waders
of the human mindful

See ya later older outer
colder shell of well-endoubters
Selling grins
of sprawling truths
and falling in

Again this world of yearly star’s
so nearly far away

Again a shell, and just as well
A crabby hermit wakes to tell
The story of the sun:

It reaches out with swinging arms
To grasp a string of rocky pearls
And whirls them into circle farms
Churning out the fruit of worlds

And pluck pluck pluck
Juicy bites
To feed the waiting appetites

And what are but the mites to do
When cosmic gnashers come to chew
But to hide behind a shell
of crabby mite
and just as well

Thank you mountain valley
pouring soaring alleys
Roaring spaces

Your trickled dreams
traced prickled streams
of thought pockets

Pictures placed into mixtured
heartpace lockets

Spanning
Sprawling

Open-ended land walled
in looming monster calling
Moonfalls

Tall tunes
echoed inwards
words, words​​​​​​​​​​​  ​​​​​​​​

Now~
Across the wildebeast of water
And into the monocle of man

Where rivers rise in smokey snakes
That slither from the land

Farewell yonder ponder pot
I’ll remember what I can

And plant where I may
the forget-me-not bouquet
You so gloriously poured in my hand

I squashed an ant today–
A big fat
flying black
Queen Latifa ant

–and my heart fractaled

Splayed there
Wings broken
Leaking unspoken destiny

Felled the crest of me
Yelled a mess at me
Shelled the whispers glistened inward
listened~

Plastered there
Everlastered square in ashdirt
Bastard.

Welcome to Life
Welcome to living
To hurry and heartache
And later, forgiving

Welcome to living
Welcome to dreams
To swirling in this masticade to see what it means
To race into oceans that rise up against you
With none but your heart and the mind that they fenced you
To be born into riptides
And slammed to the floor
And hoping inside you that somewhere’s a shore

And you pour and you pour with the tears in your eyes
Feeding this ocean of humanity’s disguise
Till one day you crawl from the shallows to sand
With a whimper, a smile, and an outstretching hand

Welcome to land
To Earth, and her spinning
Her weaving of stories, the meanwhile grinning
For she knows what it is to be born from explosion
To flourish with life, but only through erosion

She knows what it is to be strung out in space
With no guidance or aim, except for the grace
of the pull of the souls who were flung out before
Roaming this darkness, searching for more
On this great looping track that leads back to the core

Welcome to shore
To the sands of time
Soaked in the waters of the utter divine
Teeming with life
Dreaming in circles
Careening through space
And embracing the hurdles

Welcome to grace
To darkness, and light
To finding our place

Welcome to Life

She tip-toes the constellation lines
That shine reering beasts
That prance pillow wines in my mindpool

O stellar factoria
Blissful endeavour
Of watching the skies
On the backs of forever

Eyes gleaming comet blurs
of wistful enchanment
Dancing watery moonglow goblets
That toast the nocturn-fellery

Come my goddess of dream fountains
Pouring nebular clusters
that whirl with gravitas

Let us prance again the starshapes
That splash~in novas~our lives

(Ctrl+A)

Sweet sweet silence

Dissolver of clouds that fog my mind
That gather storms of thunder that boom
with lightning and downpours

Undoer of dams of inner flow
Flooding the creatures of creativity
Droughting the sprouting buds of energy
Destroying the habitat of humanity

Sweet sweet silence

Like a ray of sun restoring pasty wintered skin
With tingle pricklings that dance pitter-patter
On brightening softshoe

Blender of life and limb to swim
with mixing currents
Through the barrier of skin

Sweet sweet cosmic whispers
Flowing through the ocean of silence
That breaks on the ragged rocks of hardened existence
So that only misleading fragments leak through

Let me ride your tide
A buoy bobbing
the seas of infinity

Inspired  by: Austin Kleon, P. Yogananda

Sometimes there’s lulls
Sometimes there’s byes

Sometimes there’s times when we haven’t our tries

Sometimes what lies in the plain outside open
Builds and it builds
Piles in hills
And then when it spills
It seems something’s broken

Sometimes there’s hoping a way will shine through
Sometimes there’s days, and months that pass too

Sometimes no matter the splattering paints
that colour this life~
Sometimes there’s taints

And no matter how high our uppermost shelves
The shadow we’ve massed is still cast on ourselves

Sometimes there’s darkness, dimness, derision
Sometimes we haven’t the eyes to envision
The world that still dances outside our division
Sometimes we close ourselves off

Then sometimes we strengthen to do what we must
To fight other people
When really… it’s us

And sometimes the whole world conspires to say
Until you catch on, you won’t get your way

You can toss in the lostness that cost you your turn
Or you can pick up the dice ~ and see what you learn

~ * ~

Sometimes it seems like particular beams
are holding the structure of living
And until we’re supporting the ones going soft
The building will sag unforgiving

Two little foals circle the grounds
Confused as to which way to go
Rains coming down in bucketing rounds
Wicked winds rampage and blow

Round and around in the grips of confusion
Scampering ungodly hills of delusion
Bounding in manic protrusions of fear
So many nearby–but nobody deer
to help it all make any sense

Soaked to the bone
Tired. Alone
All that they want is to find a way home
But all the world reers with affence

I’ve a contingency for virility
An instinction to pronounce
The facts of this facsimile
of the world that we renounce

The Great Paper-Trail Caper! of the later 2000’s
Lost in the crossways of invisible mountains
of toxic indoctrines that locks it to bars
of iron-wrought pox in this box-in of ours

But where are the holes of oxygen leakings?
Where’s the patrols of paradoxical teachings?
Where’s our paroles from the roles that we’re leading?

We’re so lost in the goals of the old and unneeding
That we’ve forgotten to bandage our souls that are bleeding

Make sway my slumbers
Derail my mind
Let go these numbers judging blind

Undo these bumbling
grind reminders
ever stumbling
Shed these blinders

Rid my life of all this trash
That hid my eyes
And brought this rash
Of loss and lies and burning rage
Of tastless ties and wasted days
Of lazy rambles, crazy blame
Shatters, shambles, shacks and shame

Quit this game
Just grant release
And this time help me mean it
…please

A shine divine in times of trouble
A sing of things to come

Within the rims of crimson rubble
Or in a handsome hum

Oh humbled mucks of dim diviners
And tumbled lucks abound

How lowly lie the little liners
With heavens shining down