Wednesday, December 27, 2006

part II

darvis opened his eyes to a pelican rooting its way through a duffle bag near the hull of the vessel. “no dice, freak beak. you’re shit out of luck.” darvis said in a suprisingly unalarmed tone. the bird had looked up at him as if he were pathetic for not having carried any rations this far out to sea. “now get out of here before I decide to have you for breakfast.” darvis raised his arms, stood on his toes and puffed out his chest as far as he could and began to muster up his most menacing and convincing impression of a predator. his half assed threat was cut short. “wait a second.. what type of animal would prey upon a pelican?” thought darvis.

darvis knew that stella was an expert at animal classification and decided to rouse her from her sleep. “hey stella, wake up sleepyhead I have a pop quiz for you!” darvis shouted. stella, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head glances over at darvis with the all too familiar death stare. “are you talking to yourself again..I thought we went over this already..” “no, you have a visitor this morning!” darvis points over to the now impatient looking pelican. “looks to me like a regular american white pelican. we must not be too far out at sea yet.” stella said. “so, what type of animals prey on our little friend here?” darvis asks. “well, this little guy is part of the pelecanidae family and is related to other sea birds like cormorants and tropic birds.” stella proclaimed proudly with the convcition of a veteran wildlife lecturer. “so to answer your question, he doesn’t have many predators that can get at him. perhaps only sharks and other large birds of prey have a chance.”

darvis quite impressed with the sheer volume of stella’s knowledge presses on almost teasingly. “so professor, do you think we could capture him, train him and make a fisherman out of him?” darvis asks in a terribly executed snide british accent. “no, this isn’t a circus act.” stella replied back. “he is quite docile and unusually personable for a wild bird – provided he actually is a male.” stella states as she continues to examine the pelican. “maybe we can find out. does he have a dodo with some berries on it?” darvis quipped. stella ignoring his incessant need to be comedian of the year replies “it doesn’t really matter if it is male or female now does it?” “I guess not.” darvis exclaims sounding put in his place.

suprisingly, the pelican continues to remain near the hull of the vessel despite the ongoing banter between stella and darvis. the pelican has a very large frame with a long protruding wingspan. its beak, a large canary yellow contrasts its cotton white body. this pelican in particular had a very majestic dispostion with an unusual aura of wisdom and good fortune eminating from its berry-like black eyes. unbeknownst to the young seafarers, historically the pelican represented self-sacrafice and piety, often times providing her own blood to her young if food was scarce. perhaps this happenstance wasn’t a coincidence?

“so what are we going to do now that we don’t have any food?” stella said sternly after having looked through the empty duffle bag. “wait a second, have you checked the storage hatch yet?” darvis offered as a last ditch attempt at advice. stella opens the rusty latch of the storage compartment after some effort. inside she finds a fishing rod with some bait and the sack of non parishables she had told darvis to place inside of the duffle bag at the beginning of their journey. “well I guess we’re not going to need this little fella to catch fish for us anymore.” as darvis says this he wastes not a second continuing where he left off in scaring the poor seabird away. this time however, darvis lifts up one leg and extends both of his arms out as if they were talons and screams off into the distance. his screams echo off of the calm water and sound reminiscent of an ultrasound machine on steroids through a guitar distortion box. quite an obnoxious sound. as stella looks over at darvis as if this charade were a daily occurrence, she sighs while removing her clothes and plunges into the inviting water for her morning swim.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

from a tiny island in the south pacific. part I.

[from a tiny island in the south pacific.]

the voyage started a simple one. darvis was always one to defiantly resist any attempts made by stella to venture out into the vast entireties of the unknown. whether this had to do with an intense fear of having to leave the comfort of his own environment or some type of separation anxiety was soon to be beyond the point.

the voyage started at a small seaport on the Canadian west coast. stella set the course of the vessel southwest while darvis tried to come to terms with this ever changing environment. bitterly but quietly darvis looked out into the uncharted and felt a moments peace. (he had seen the movie Captain Ron several times and wondered if he would become subject to a similar sequence of crazy antics.)

"come here quick, check out the dolphins!" stella shouted excitedly. darvis yanked himself away from the ropes on the starboard and saw a small team of dolphins swimming in a triangular pattern. he had always wondered how these small mammals earned their reputation for exceptional compassion and intelligence skills. as the moment of wonder slowly diminished, darvis realized that like the dolphins, he and stella were indeed on some type of journey. stella had always ranted on and on about how a journey need not a specific direction or purpose. the key ingredient to a 'magic moment' being a liberal dose of spontaneity.

always caught up in a immense amount of introspection, darvis quickly came to realize that the sun had almost completely sank into the horizon. it was getting dark quickly. "darvis, isn't the sunset beautiful?". stella exclaimed. stella had a talent of being able to speak with her eyes. at this moment, her eyes were competing with the sunset for beauty. "yes, these are far better than the ones on the east coast of Huron." darvis had always thought of the Huron shores sunsets as 'rookie' despite the fact he once read that they were of the top ten locations in the world. switching his attention from stella’s eyes back towards the sky, he again sank back into his thoughts.

the sun rises slowly like a small globe cast over the earth. its sole purpose is to shine for us. like an eye that has seen too much of the day, it slowly grows heavy and sinks back into the horizon.

with the sun behind them now, darvis and stella settle under the stars for their first slumber at sea. the air is unusually humid and heavy carrying with it the aroma and taste of salt. this journey, although fairly unspecific in its trajectory, was turning out to become somewhat of a paradigm shift for both of the young seafarer's. laying on her back with her arm slung over the side of the vessel , stella falls out of consciousness quickly and as darvis stares into the night sky, he quickly becomes victim to his meandering imagination.

closing your eyes to the waking life
is like turning your back
on a hungry panther.

Monday, December 18, 2006

eb and flo

we Become
just by surfing the crest
of this second

now I feel
the tension split
from your pull
towards freedom

your bold moves toward
autonomy

like the waves you ride,
living from breath to breath
is the only thing
that will keep you afloat


i will surrender my soul
so it becomes
the weight of
rarefaction

to push you
safely to shore

Thursday, December 14, 2006

variables in aesthetic value

what makes art prepared for (lack a better word) consumption for the masses? If you've been working on something for years, how could something whipped up in five minutes have a higher aesthetic potential than the work that was in progress for years? There is a latent process beneath creation that gives something its aesthetic value. Is there something to be said on how a moment can affect your perception? Are certain moments more 'special' than others? The time invested in a body of work alone does not contribute to a higher aesthetic value.

A multitude of variables -- latent and visible contribute to these values. What are they all? I guess the majority of art depends on you Being at the right place at the right Time. I think I need an anaesthetic to stop my mind from ruminating on these aesthetics.

Monday, December 11, 2006

moral decline? closing parishes and the state.

Sadly, I was informed today that many of the roman catholic parishes in my hometown will be closing down within a few years. I'm not sad in the fact that I participated any practice of faith within these establishments, but that it is a grim sign of the times.

Although I had grown up as a practicing roman catholic, one can never be expected to understand the motives of any type of faith at such a young age. For me, church was a social event more than some place where you would witness the birth, death and ascension of christ in a procession, three hymns and a recessional. I would alter serve every Sunday and be loyal to Father Rodzinka while trying to stifle my countless yawns during the service (those were the days I would wake up at 7am!)

After many years absent from the confines of the church and delving into different disciplines of science, my perspectives began to shift towards the ideas of evolution. This is where in, my opinion, the paths between faith and materialism diverge.

Materialism at the most simplest definition is a 'preoccupation with or emphasis on material objects, comforts, and considerations, with a disinterest in or rejection of spiritual, intellectual, or cultural values.'

Science fits in very snugly with materialism in that it concentrates mostly on fact and fact is, the majority of the time, derived from tangiblities and physical matter. In the 21st century, we rely heavily on this materialism in our everyday lives. In fact, I believe that we have gone so far as to making it into a crutch.

Science is materialism at its most empirical level. I could write a litany on the definition of materialism alone, so for simplicity sake I will leave it at this most fundamental definition.

Now that we know where these two currents diverge, it might be easier to see clearer through the differences. Humans are always concerned with wanting to "see results or instant gratification" materialism is the best route to this since we can manipulate matter to what we want to see and not necessarily what really is there. When we put the two up against eachother in this forum of "seeing results" I would bet that spending one hour at the local wal-mart would be more rousing than spending one hour cooped up in a church pew. This is one reason why the numbers are declining in the church. The old generation is dying off and the Gen X'ers raised in a material frenzy just "don't get faith dude". This, coupled with the catholic church's stubbornness towards change will only continue to see it's followers lost.

All of this begs the question of whether or not religion and science can co-exist peacefully. The short answer is yes. Science is what we know but can't feel and religion is what we can feel but we don't know. The very essence of Being could be hidden within these two opposing concepts. But, as humans it is no surprise we expect to reach this paradigm overnight. It takes generations of cultural evolution and thought to reach these enlightenment and this is our next cultural 'enlightenment'. Our very greed and need for instant gratification is getting in our way towards growing intellectually!

Someone asked me the question today for the reason of continuing moral decline. The thoughts I have set out on this page tonite are just the start of an answer. I can also note that we do not even know for sure whether moral decline is even occurring - there is no certain way to measure that. If it is occurring than it is occurring because something is changing within our society and this we can see and this is the only way we can draw observation without the danger of mere speculation.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

what i know so far

only through surrender
can the darkest moments be brought to light

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

forget

how it would be
easier
to forget

memories
are the sharpest
knives

they have a direct
route
to my heart

Friday, November 24, 2006

time travel disproving fatalism

A.

the arrow of time

is pre etched and sketched

you know,
like the red toy


you could travel from point

A
to
B

B already exists Now

but you aren't even there yet.


this is why I know
no time travel

because i am not a


fatalist



B.

so you drew a line.

each thrust from your heart

has the power to change

what happens down that line.

the heart

is the pulse of freewill



you're free.
to change.

there is no god
so don't live in fear anymore

you're in control

take your morals
from the seed
of
human
compassion

and thrive

Friday, November 03, 2006

rebirth

after the screaming
struggling

and blood lost,

slowly

falling into the silence
of
death,

the agony ends

a fell prey

lays

a bushel of bones


in a mute state of grace

now

becomes the passion
in the predators eyes


anew

Friday, October 27, 2006

cosmic foundry

when it's dark

i can see through
the fabric

of the Continuum


behind this curtain,
gears grind loudly

almost inefficiently.

divine
grease and sweat
flow

here,
the labors of the Eternal

grow

in this sweatshop
of freewill and faith

the only profanity
dare uttered
is
'why?'

here,
uncertainty

is what powers
the dreams
of its workers

fighting a broken heart

fighting a broken heart
like kicking a habit

the night sweats
sleeping in autumns blankets

every breath
drawn through the
pinhole in a plastic bag

the lump in my throat
weighs down the bounce
in my walk



the withdrawals
can even you out

falling apart,

to restructure
in a stronger
order

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

bent light [love as a diorama]

as many angles
as you could pull out of a sphere

my heart
reflects
infinitesimal nuances
of our love

although
shattered f r agme nts

cast beams
in c h aotic directions,


the bent light
gives birth to
odd

and mysterious
shadow s

i have never seen

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

happy anniversary

october 15, 2005



one year ago
we stood at the alter

families were divided
but your love for her,

i stood tall for

i brought my baby along
how she loved autumn

and a beautiful day it was

.


passions
were strong

we have our mothers eyes
and our fathers tongue

but you have your lovers
heart;


that better half

completes you





[sorry about the bathroom stall]

Monday, October 16, 2006

we left our love in the mountains


ran so fast
that we forgot to hold hands



together we thread ourselves
through
dots on maps,

knit quite an us


and somehow ended up
a forgotten masterpiece

the last draw

wore my sharpest spurs today.
met you at high noon

like you wanted

i kicked open the doors
of the saloon

forced down some club soda

i pretended to be a mad dog

you pulled up in your mustang


it was time...
to draw.


we cracked our knuckles
glared into eachothers eyes


for what seemed like eternity,

i swallowed my tongue

you pulled out a brush
me,
my SuperBIC 4 color

i was beat.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

uncleaned fur

who you are
you are
the cat’s ass
you are

uncleaned fur
walking
with your chest
hanging out


they say
you are crass
you say
what they say

uncleaned fur
dressed scantily
on the street corner
with your chest
hanging out


you feel
civilized
he peels
banana’s
she replies


uncleaned fur
swinging from branch to branch
with his chest
hanging out

she said
he said
after we got
outta bed
making crooked love

uncleaned fur
forgot
to zip up
left himself
hanging out


I smell
you tired
walking down the street
eyes half open
a car rocks you – expired

uncleaned fur
bleeding onto the road
with your chest
hanging out

Saturday, July 22, 2006

a dinosaurs honesty

The earth does not find a place in us, we find our place on the earth.

Dinosaurs didn’t speak. They left their story behind with their bones. The easiest way to conceptualize these mesozoic beauties would be through modern reptile behavior. All that remains of the tyrannosaur is the small scurrying salamander you see making his daily appearance catching ants and other bugs. Not much of a material legacy was left behind by these giants. The closest thing they had to material culture they digested and excreted. That was the most comparative chemical reaction analogous to homo sapiens ‘art’. Thankfully, certain strands of nucleic acid chains called DNA survived the Triassic extinction and carried on towards modern day. Willpower over the emotions originating in our primitive brain area has allowed art to flourish through the act of self expression.

Art is a chemical reaction. It is consciousness trying to escape itself. The act of expression is an effort to bind to others as if they were so many receptors. We then become compounds (society). Interaction is the basis of humankind. We as humans are our own periodic table of elements. We are talking stars. We are thinking clouds.

Our skyscrapers will become our fossils. The bones we leave behind will appear to have been deformed by aching spirit and our Great aerobic feats will decompose along with our flesh. The spoken word-- by far our most incredible accomplishment -- will evaporate like water into the wind and indeed they will become artifacts of silence.

Friday, July 21, 2006

the sea slows us

the sea slows us
which shows us


we don’t have wings.


the sea knows us
for she exposes us

our tiny vessels
glide so lonely on her
smooth blue skin


she says
farm carefully,

your ambitions

[I] shall swallow you
and coerce the wind
to blow you men down

the sea rows us
but encloses us

no societies without gills,

the sea disposes us
swallowed into her skin
she parts us in two
walks between us

towards revenge

Sunday, July 16, 2006

spheres

stop shaking your spheres at me!
they’re dull

never have I seen a sphere shake
it’s way through anything

sphere’s shaped like works
I mean,

words. worries me,

your ambitious ammo

likespheres, shaky,

dull and unmeaning

yours, to me
childish and unweilding

alls I goshdarnit
ever hear
are balls rolling off your
tongue!

they don’t cut
like themspears

shake my ears

i laugh at your balls,
spheres --
whatever..

but,
they don’t hit
me
like
angels

Saturday, July 15, 2006

at 63

Iggy shouts ‘cut -- take two!’


Now deaf,
I shake my head
out of a deep sleep
Realizing I’m not in a rehearsal hall

But at home,
crosswise in a hammock
off the
east coast
of Costa Rica

staring up the tall wooden leg
of a banana tree


addled, fragments from the past
unwillingly enter my mind
like stray frequencies

in unsystematic streams

wrinkled, I cannot stop
These chemical
dog ears
from forming

like a book
read non sequentially

I keep falling into another story
Unable to trace my way back ho

Falling deeper
As each chapter closes in on me


still feels a lifetime away

at 63

Thursday, July 13, 2006

thought on the train

everything now is meant to serve the individual, but, still fails to cater to the collective


the noise between
us grows

exponentially drowns out
hope


empathy

humanity
u
growing up

with deformities

in our own
weekly
predatorials

cities
becoming
metastized masses

at bay station
i see empty eyes
lost in
self actualizations

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

being human

if i could take the hands of nature
and paint life a different way

i'd rub myself out
of this scenery

and use my last breath
to revive sad souls

.

starting over

giving others
second chances

i'd only see
from the stars

.

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

all on a summer's night

in a dimly lit sex office
parked near
antigonish

outside,

insects
penetrate all four
windows

inside,

perverse
femoral
movements

lips lock

hips hit

appendages
find their way

into your bermuda triangle, i get lost

all on a summer's night

.

let's return to that Place and create sparks by welding into eachother

Monday, July 03, 2006

i want to be with hue

I love her more than the word itself
so much,
I wish I could answer her
from another time

to clean up this canvas
from all of the bad colors

I am

to be with her in pure Technicolor


I would be her

I deal,

so much

martyst

you began from absolute zero

but every breath exhaled

sketched soft impressions

into the wind,



until your breakdown

slashed through

the canvas

pulled you into heaven

so close, not far

for Jason,


when everything is so clear

the night sky
is the celestial meeting ground for

distant lovers

gaze up

and meet her eyes
in the stars

deadly medley

hey dude,
don’t make it bad

your candle burnt out long before

we could rock you

two dirty words, and what they mean

love [is falling in and out of the same person] forever

Thursday, June 22, 2006

agnosticnog

whisper this.

{i've seen the best dogmatists, at best, brainwashed}


those who live in the pocket of gullibility
suggestion will go miles for

faith
the easiest way
to fill space,

empty
like your last
lovers kiss

.

in life's company,

conformity
guarantees
you coverage
against infidelity investments

full benefits.


god exists only in the
pulse of human belief

and is expelled
in the final breath
of the
last
man

stan,ding

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Rorschach's Static Secrets

(another way to know
is to hear)


i turn on my television
only when i'm feeling susceptible.

i switch to the nudest channel

and pick out shapes
in the white noise

there..
is in the air

what was, is

i can hear the Big Boom echo.
in it,
is yesterdays afterglow

shapes from the past
pierce through my eardrum

as tiny shards of shrapnel
spray my brane


white noise carries a peculiarity
similar to that of the light you swore you switched off
but found
on_upon
your return

this strange yet quite familiar
noise
leaves you stripped
and feeling awe'd


gripped by uneasiness
i give myself to these Ultra High Frequencies,

here, after Now
i can hear into the afterlife

a million voices
keep screaming out

'we were wrong'

i turn away from the static,
short from cutting off my ears,
and stop believing.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Burn

some people live too close.

to the tip of the flame

heat erodes your will
fills your head with hot air

you haven't yet learnt
the art of Art:

chasing the flame
whilst stopping short
long enough to dance
in its unware

but you can't grace anyone
with your presence



all your wants
turn you into a sadness
anyhow

wanting the thorns of a rose
is unwell and not good

living without expectation
is not stopping
long enough
to get Burned.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

here with our motherboard minds twined together with silver and saliva we compute in love and logic

130666

October. 31. 2005


Yes.
As a matter of fact
I was productive today.

I kept my heart beating
And I kept filling my lungs with air.


I went for a walk
Down by the river
Where fear flows

And I saw you sitting on a rock

your long hair covering your face.

Lost
i put my hands onto your shoulders

touch is more ancient than
Words

You said.

In an age
Where
Iloveyou
Barely permeates brains and veins

I’d prefer a world
With mouths
Sewn shut

There would be less pain.

And love would still,

resonate loudly off of the canyon walls
into the soundproof sky.


I’m currently signaling
Out of the fast lane.

The speeders
Are all leading me

Nowhere.



My odometer reads 13 00 666.
Ive driven myself to superstition.

a means, elsewhere

I send you pieces of paper
So you don’t forget me while I am away

I scribble down words
Like a coy schoolgirl

To keep me in your reality.

We both know that when we look into the sky
Polaris acts as an eye
So we can spy
on eachother

While I am away.

The massive black abyss above
Is where we craft
Nude suggestive figures

Take off Orion’s belt
While he gets off on Mars

You pick me apart in your head
Thrash your branches around violently
To ward off the parasite.

You keep reaching for the rose
And it keeps cutting you.

You keep reaching for the rose
And it keeps cutting you.

I know you are cold and on a barren floor
I weep

We yearn to be found in loving arms
With the kiss of understanding

Yet you suppress me

While I am a way.

cut that noise

Like morphine
The cold razor
Slides across soft skin

Carving the imprints
Of a discontent
Too hard to handle


The light above you flicker
In pale room

Expressionless.
Yet quite calm
Numb.

Inch by inch
The cuts Scream

Loud enough to drown
Out the Noise.

Overwhelming sense of peace
Over comes.

You sleep.

.


The noises are deep low howls
And sing like monotonic monk
chants

In tritone harmonies
They sing
of inadequacy, worthlessness, neglect
of shame

a shattered seed.

i hear the noise
I felt the noise too

The minds knife prevails.

but mine, is pointed outwards.


.

Pain is real.
Real is true.
Truth can be trusted.
In pain we trust.
That’s how we find Solace.

I’ll never run from you
If you ever appear like
Static on a screen,

I’ll know that noise.

To be loved.

And of course,

You are amazing
You take in infinities

and deserve every right
to be called

lovely.





after grace and forgiveness
fails
lies, deceit, and persistence,
the minds knife
prevails’

substrate of love / dec 24 2005

In this room
a nucleus

we work. we live.
specific
functioning

the common goal
compose a coda

to complete a cadence

collectively.

we resolve into
one enormous

h u m a n h e a r t.

social synergy

towards
but
together.


alone,
my melody
hovers in the breeze

lost:

----------

searching for a kiss,
a sine:

_.-_.-._-.

found:

in your arms

the substrate of love
---compassion.



some of us drown in it.


strum my soul.

in unison
we’ll love
twice as loud.

tonight is the night of the soulless winter sky.

tonight

feels more like new years eve,

for some reason.

I read all of these broken blogs
used like
dirty
therapists

like and unfinished novels
they remain
--forgotten.

wouldn’t it be nice
if we could use words
to pick each other up
and throw each other into walls?

slam.


we all need to be loud
to be noticed.
no one tip toes
around this fucking place anymore.


we’re all writing novels
living our own drama
being rock stars.

P r A o R d u T c t

we’re all little hero’s

--it’s Disney’s fault.

before you ask if i’m cynical:

are you really truly happy?

slam.

I am god’s gift to the earth.
did you hear me?

I glorify self-deprecation.

i’m that paper thin male
with jet black hair
messy hanging straight

like the rusty railroad tracks
I pose next to.

tears are falling into

our consciousness
flooding
an entire culture


with even more
ferocity than
Katrina.

being and nothingness

proprietary organ
silently pumping notes
to all my parts
the bandmaster lies deep
in fissures
beneath
xylphone skull

the song it discharges
like a mantra
makes us our own

i've lost my arms and legs
my body has gone blind
though i still have my mind

like a bird without any song
i float steady in dead air
with poisond' posture

i've now awakened
sweating invisible beads of blue
my brain detached from my body
which seems so alien now

i've cut off all my limbs


like a song, devoid of a soul
my brain has lost its audience

i'm nothing but a symphony of silence.

For Every Feeling, There Is This One..

the moving cars
will be coming in the morning
to take one more soul to freedom
and it's at this time
when they're coming around the corner
that there is no place to lead them

standing in a row
one by one
preparing for their execution

under their blankets
there is no glory to be had

galaxy P74J - neurion

is everyday for you
to me,
one wonderful summer night?


elliptical ideas
revolve around my will

my gravity
in a tight vacuum

if space's fabric was clear plastic
you'd see a sun asphyxiated.

swallowed by planetary paranoias
black holes

quasar compulsions

interstellar sadness

and all of this

within a flesh and bone bound
basin

its time
to correct
my will

a pill
will ignite my sun

to fuel

this

galaxy of neurons

and

propel

my cosmic engine.

petition

having brushed aside your petition for wellness
i rethink it all
from your mind
not mine.
i still feel a tenderness
at times, i can forget about the spear so deeply wedged in my side.
i will come clean
if i arrive at all.
nobody knows about this little secret but you and me
some things are just better left
missing.
but as long as i'm under this roof of twisted refuge
i must be silent.
for you, i still harbour the greatest hate
for you, i still long to see happy
i've watched you stumble and rise again
you are my one fallen king.
who would have thought
your once noble court would have failed against a melee army

no one.

but this war is escalating
and it is striking fear into the hearts of many.

he's loaded (song)

Dec 4, 2005

momma hides in her closet tonight
Cause she’s knows damn well
he’s been looking for a fight

clinging to a bottle in the basement
like a
hungry parasite

he’s loaded
he’s loaded


tonite

(music interlude)

all alone
with her back against the wall
she hears the panting
and the threats
down the hall


getting closer
hearts begin to pound
it’s her spirit
lashing out
trying to break out and run

cause

he’s loaded
he’s loaded
tonite

all alone

and he’s loaded

janus

im sad and smiling
as this anger happiness resides in me
my stomach's full
brain empty

disparate thoughts are lethal
if you cannot manage them

but this janusian concept is what causes
breakthroughs
and breakdowns...
it is through being cold and hot
at the same instant
human ingenuity occurs

it drives me crazy
past the point of distraction

detract the cold that burns
contract the heat that freezes

the empirical rationalist will one day fall folly
if we don't recognize the cosmic vibrations
that give so much
we take away the silence
that makes the noise

it'd be something else to experience
a punch in the head concurrent with a sweet kiss

oct 27 2005

The days that all of the wars
stop.
will be the day no cell dare move.
(prevent the invasion
of this unwelcome parasite)

will be the day
the earth stops pulling the moon
and the waves stop
sculpting the shorelines

Utopia.
is utmost balanced
and graceful harmony.

heavenly spheres,
pluck thine melody
and vibrate the stars!

to make this
Grand
Sound.


War is a word.
Giving birth to
By difference.

The same difference.

That have caused your eyes
To veer off!

This page

By

Now.


Heed not!
For this is no litany.

For I bind to no receptor (true love)

True love isn’t a key into a lock
Love is just war that can stop.

Peace isn’t meant to be eternal
Wheel.

Didn’t Nietzsche preach to you on the false ideal?



Harmonize with me.
And maybe we can
Drown out this

Dissonance.

untitled

seems like
everyday
im watching
not living life
I’m finally starting to let love expose herself to me
She’s opened up her curtains
And curious as I am, I peak
Only to see her undress herself in all her immeasurable
Beauty
For me
She knows that I’ve made myself vulnerable
I’ve stripped of all of my armor, and let down my guard
Just to see how beautiful
She really is
Oh please leave the light on
I’m in this for real now

love constipated

Nov. 24, 2005



Love doesn’t last

Or brew in the tract

Forever.


There are muscles

That keep it moving.

From sitting to still

From fermenting.

In the gut of grace.



Once it reaches the stomach

Feelings of lust.

Time becomes the juices

That break it down.

As untouched balls

Begin to bust




Push.

Love is labour.

Contract the love

Through your guts.


And through it all

At the end all

Squeezed through neumours viscera


Misery is born.

march 11 2005

he pulled up in the driveway again
with his black pickup

my first instinct
was to slowly remove his eyes
exposing his optic nerves

i'd salt his wound. help him see me.

but something strange
a sort of construct of human decency
stopped me.

i guess living within the lines
is the cure for psychopath.

after grace and forgiveness
fails
lies, deceit, and persistence,
the minds knife
prevails

the effort
to live within the acceptable
is less tolerated

when you become
the casualty
you can no longer be innocent

like being thrown into a cage of tigers.
you fight with all you gots.

the mahatma came to me in a dream
and told me to turn my other cheek...

but all i have is one heart.

march 13. 2006. 1:00am.

silent music that this math is

geometry = harmony.

chaos and non determinism



the sunlight is bracketed by terrible bouts of blackness

with each revolution

circles unite the universe.

each sphere

a single neuron

within the conciousness

of eternity.


these words you say and write

they are to me geometry.

as your words fall into my ear

off of an invisible canvas,

their shapes hit me in angles

shapes are the skeletons upon which energy flows


they direct free radicals

like lost civilians

out of chaos


what love is in all of this


sound are the shapes

with love locked within

im still working

on the precise vibrations

to strum souls. [unlock]


i can't see right
i can't speak right
i can't

get myself into you
without air or light.

color me in
and don't dare stay within the lines





can't stop writing.

inifnity grates me. teases me. leads me on an endless adventures.

what will please me is outside of this mind

our perception can only take us so far.



1:03am.

my biggest fan

As I look at the fan spinning
Cooling my room

I think.

air afraid being sucked in
later be thrust out and rejected.

We all spin.
Each mind separate
Our hearts caught in the blades

You are my biggest fan.

I’m already dizzy
But you keep
Increasing the revolutions

My eyes twirling
Like one of van Gogh’s night skies

Makes it hard to see you pure

See you love,

You were one of my biggest fans

I’ll let my hair marry the wind

You move me in every way.

once it's too late

I’m choking
On all that I could
Bite off

In a room full of sheets and scalpels

You are watching me
Pass slowly
Into ether

And all I can think now
As I depart into the sudden silence

Are all the words I should have used.




I would load my barrel
Point it towards the sky
And pump it full of
Sorry’s

And I wouldn’t let go of the trigger.


but
we’re here
holding on.

My hand in your hand
Slowly losing grip

Say,

Is no longer accessible.

You lean in closer
And begin to speak to my eyes

As I scan the room
blankly

my eyes finally meet your eyes
And I can smell the safety from your mouth

Your warm hair
Envelops me like a scarf

Your eyes glow

A single tear passes
When you realize my hands

Have gone from

warm

to

cold


Now,

Your eyes are the only light I can see

It is this moment now

when my heart has stopped
my muscles atrophy
and my throat closes tight behind us

that my brain spasms and slams

into divine mode

and realizes

Grace.

points

The star cross’d will wed by mid moon


I felt so full, at points, during that wedding

I yearned for connections

Between the points…

and that closeness.

That home.

I told myself

I’d rather slowly bleed through the fabric

Filling it slowly

Than to be an open gash

Pouring a lake of haste.




Children grow up

To smile upon

Children.

And so

The circle

Goes

On and on.




Families may become like wars,

But at least there is war.

Love can never be that silent.

And you know that.

relatively love

Relatively love

Loves waxes and wanes
Like the seasons


Everyone is going snow-blind.

spitting out
narrow words
to express
Giant ideas.


I look around
Trying to
Perceive things
In lowest terms


But instead,
My mind warps


Every object
Is traveling
At their own speed.

The lamp.
The pictures on the wall.
The candle.
The floor.

It feels like a highway.

Im trying not to collide

Everything is floating freely
Disconnecting,

From the canvas of
What is becoming
now

.

Im tearing away at matreshka
Never has a Russian doll

Made me so hot.

say now

its sunday
in a car along the lake
the rain outside
pelts the windwos

through the glass she see's
a world so large and free
she wants to take it...love it
she wants to live this

life
so wonderful and real
at this moment
she can do anything

me
living all those yesterdays
i can't
if I say now
when i'll say now

she breaks through the mists
with those dainty determined fists
she's gonna make change

happen

so go ahead
let your hair marry the wind
and doing anything
for everythng

life's
so wonderful and real
at this moment
we can do anything

us
living all those yesterdays
we can't
if we say now
when we'll say now

seasick

At Sea


i'm fighting the minutes
cause i know i'll feel good again.
once the sun comes to see me
i'll be safe from the sea.

i'm fighting the embarrassment
you and your weniki have caused me

it's getting windy.
and with wind comes rain, thunder, and change
this is one hell of a squall

it's nice to know i'm still at sea
while you've landed so long ago
i'm setting anchor until you and your swabs
become more civilized
on your tiny island

I’m fighting the surf
as the waters come crashing down
each hit brings me closer to land
violent storms. hundred foot waves.
im like a sardine being swallowed by the briny deep

i'm fighting the waves
while you're welcoming me with the tides
they'll pull me towards you naturally
but my will is stronger than your love
i'm sure of it.

I’m staying put.
I’ll walk the plank before I’ll give in

it’s just me, and the rising and setting of the sun

sometimes i sing and swim with the whales.

in the cold deep blue

enjoying my isolation.

constant motion. rise and fall. push and pull. night and day. wet and dry.
the longer i am alone
the more apparent subtle variations in oppositions become
i'm more sensitive than you've ever known
mentally jarred. dare i say intro s p e c t e d.

i know you've already invented the telescope
i can see the suns reflection off of your brassy glass lens
you've watched me for months
i know.
you'll never see my jolly roger addled though
may you mistake my piercing bright pearly whites
for the sun
blind you pox!

no more tears.
only fears
here is me:
so long as you be
i will remain at sea
thrashed around violently

i long for solid ground
im hungry for the colors green and brown
i'm afraid if i'm here to long i'll be stuck in
shades of blue

only my memories can give me a space to smile.

turbulent waters wildy swaying
getting dizzy from all of this

seeds

Today

when my mind works like
God’s
window

I could see you the mother
of my children

zipping up one piece snow suits
right up to the chin

making sure all of the mittens
are connected
to the coats.

leave room for the kiss.

and off they go.

no one would
Fuck these seeds up

the roots would go deep

fostered by
you’re
Wonferful
Hands

tend to them like
You’re
garden
On a warm spring afternoon.


my crop fire was so long ago.

and the soil is still full of ash.

and the passers by keep
taking their drunk pisses
On me

and choking me with
their nitrogen


(the eyes envy the palms and fingers
to touch what they can only ever see)






and memories are moments turned chemical.


(miles davis-flamenco sketches)

st peter your four walls and a floor

quatremarche.

the blue on the walls
the smell of turpentine
filled the halls
the place where i used to shoot off
my mouth.

the office was dead
it was a tight place
Abella once led
but i wasnt afraid anymore
cause my name
wasn't scribed
from the celeing to the floor.

the walls were a memorial
to the gained and lost
so children never forgot.

but i've forgot.

i exist.
i exist.
i missed the gist
if i could only pull open the curtain of time
and see the boy who used to be in mine
i'dve felt.

i don't feel anymore.
the blue faded to grey
and i hope to hell
it will return someday.

the gleam.
is all i really have to hold on to
i don't ever feel myself

i look to the snow
hope
for tonite it glistens
just as much as when

i was four feet tall.

origins of symmetry

Oct. 30, 2005
Symmetry

a2c + 3ab + b2c

Split!

When two halves make a whole
That whole can be broken down

Symmetry still survives.


Christ had two arms.
On the cross
Bound beautifully.

At equal tensions
He could not scorn Iscariot.

He died for the beautiful side.
Though,
Heaven and hell
Are light years apart

What’s in between?

cause man loves bipolar constructs
So he can blur the lines of conduct.

Runs an empire
With half a brain.



The afterlife out of reach

No matter how much you cut away at the sea..
Its form and shape
The same
Will be.

United. Untied.
The art of symmetry

Indivisibly
Undenied.

Sp l it your sha pes
Dr aw your dra pes.

Cr o ss your ey es

Brains are snowflakes
indisguise

The origins of symmetry:

Tell me of them.

tachyons and a cosmic moment

the roads can no longer
swallow more water.

Indian road
has become
patched with lakes

I feel like
i’m driving
through Manitoba
on stilts.

.


the whys and the nows
are parading in my head.
but this parade


stuck in a time l o o p where the road ends it begins again.
niaga snigeb ti sdne daor eht erehw p o o l emit a ni kcuts

linear loops.

(I can’t get my mind off of the ultimate)

i’m always prying at Matreshka.
looking for hidden answers.

.

weave the brains
but not the gills
for the deep black pools of

space.

that Place

life is animated
for a cold January.

the rain is too tough
to be snow
this year.

everyday i come closer
to exposing the omniscent Playwright.

my addictions are benign enough
to be
or not to be
downgraded to a category 2 obsession.

obsleosvseion.

love is no more about saying

' hey baby, lets lock some cell's together
and spit out a turkey'

love is
that Place.

and
that Place
is relative
to the motion of your lover

so lock teeth
and slam the sheets
as two heavenly Bodies

and weave force.

early morning

up until the early morning hours
im celebrating my time alone
connecting with inner thoughts
trying to silence my fears

i feel at peace
trying not to give creedence to the rising sun
soon, cars and people will inhabit the streets

im trying to shrink my thoughts
i know not all is me
and i do think of you
love

i catch myself thinking about
everything i should've done
drowned out by all of the things
I have to do

i still feel dizzy and anxious
i hope the world does not reject me
i really to try my hardest
--to prove i still really love this world
i have faith
no matter much i may say
i hate this place…
i dont

i get by
the only thing that can ruin my life is death
by then, i've won anyways

my guess is im afraid of the sun
because its the only employee to have never called in sick
the stunning accuracy of our solar system
makes me feel inferior

humans are made slaves to time
while the sun is one chair below
the executive position
in the cosmic office

sometimes i am afraid to think
the meaning and passion in my life
just revolves around
the movement of air
bear in mind this "sonic canvas"
is just defined by western motives
and by no means reflects and cross cultural views


i beleive in an omnipresent force
i think the bulk of us who do beleive
only beleive in "god" as a word
and not the totality of creation
i still realize all it is a monotonous routine
manifested by rituals, symbols,

i need to find something that can outlive death.

the very process of my meandering thought
its microcosm is the evolution of mankind:
the need for logic, reasoning..
the very study of our own Origins
outlines itself, within itself

im gettin caught up in the why
i think ill just retire here
and let my dreaming do the
rest

November 9, 2005

November 9, 2005

fast forward to spring
all this rain make me
want to

when the sky
is at its deepest
darkest blue

talk I can,
to you.

rain hitting the roof
and thunder filling every inch of sky
bellowing

across half prairie lands

could just be you
slamming at your cupboards
looking for spring too.


you know
you taught me:

seasons are circular.

(thunder)

seasons are the earths
digestion process.

--the peristalsis
of that which we are yet to
Discover

.

the winds
make your branches blow beautifully

have you ever watched leaves dance through the air? (you should)

like ideas they fall
to be raked up
by the Collective

Well,

I know you don’t like
old man winter

but everyone gots ta
shake off their booties

to walk in the snow

I promise, though

time is more consistent
than gravity

We will be
delivered.

and

Well,

the snow will be late this year.

To take in infinity

Those who have the widest
Apertures

Seem to suffer at the mercy of their ruminations.

The tiniest idea
Can be enormous action.

The breadth of intake
Can be hazardous.

Constantly gasping
For that fresh air
Never knowing when it will arrive

Cutting. Slashing.
Each thought is a precious sapling

You are reborn again.
With new skin.

Each branch will grow another
and another

A seemingly perpetual process.

Until your thoughts become re-fragmented
sick
thick
resinous

gook
--soon to be malignant.

Only your finest weed can prune them.

what lies beyond the stem
are the branches
beyond branches of branches

(leaves)

Anything beyond that

You Wonder.

take in.

the mystical substrate of air

the ultimate is out there.

who you guys call the messiah

is hiding somewhere in the static


You take in infinity.

-----------------------------

Cut.

Take 2.

We’re All Dying to be Loved

--begin transmission--βµα∞ﻺﻞﻉﻞ


To live happy with the people around you.
You have to play the right part
And exist on a level that is more
Fruitious in dimension
Than a voice over the phone
…and idea in your head.

You must answer when questioned.
Even if the question is really just a m e ssage.

The time




Between





Communications




Shouldn’t take



This






L o n g.




We are meant to exchange
In flesh

When you say ‘I love you’ in flesh
My eyes swell
Pupils dilate

When you say ‘I love you’ through the machine

1100110010
1001000100110011001
10101001001001001
1001100011001000010000 1000101001001

Lmfao.


(Constricts pupils)

J


Ring.
(yelling from the past becomes ringing of the present)

Its nice to know we are all so c o n n e c t e d.
Connected with

Bell.

Ring.


So much damage done with the phone.
You can be an army of 10 men - -

- -when you don’t have to look someone
In the eyes.

So much damage done with those silicon b easts
You can become a tank.

When all you have is time, words, and choice
Our fingers become our voice.


In a world so connected,
With the extra time

All our thoughts, feelings, and selves
Become so dissected.

Machines are favoring
The coward.
To lead existence

But once the lines and networks burn
Hugs and kisses they’ll have to relearn.


Ring.

Put me down!
Hang me up.

Im always on this phone
But I still feel so alone!

L

Whats between you and I?
Two digits 1100011000100
That turn on and off 00110011001

(on and off)

Which one do you want to be?


I’m a number, call me.




--end transmission-- βµα∞ﻺﻞﻉﻞ

what if?

If we could hold our breaths
At the speed of light

I’d take you out of this
Milky way

And into Pegasus.


I want to watch your eyes
As they lay upon

Sagittarius

Burnings gases
And
Organic fumes


We’d be floating like space junk

Wow.

Space time
Will bend for us.

Like two balls in a blanket.

But the brain
Is heavier

Not only in mass

but in soul.


None of the heavenly Bodies

Form the words

What if

&

Why.