Playful nothingness

Begin my Chicago travels

punk scene and strong coffee

smoke clouds amoung blue hair

Future my demise, roll diagnosis experience

Peak rice blooming under sunset clouds

Can’t touch one sphere without spreading all the others

Neon man has a hat, slumps in the bar

Running lie, low swings, marksman’s eyes

Little did I mention, xylene chains and planting in the rain

From ghosts, black soap, hotel copies of the tribune and the post

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Cuddle heart

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Love to hear your voice

No matter your mood

Love the feel of skin

Especially, nude

This is our place together

Joined by love, angels feathers

We’re in our cuddle heart

I hope we never part

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Love to make you breakfast

Eggs shining as the sun

Love to see you smile

Tea and some bagels too

Love inside our house

Especially, you

This is our hearts together

This is our place together

Joined by love, angels feathers

We’re in our cuddle heart

I hope we never part

Every day my heart smiles

Every place we are together

Cuddle heart

Cloudblades

Cutting edges of the sky. Ishmael flies his pigskin blimp high. Drinking brandy, and some handyman takes the hammer wheel. Antichrist, the redeemer, or is he just a dreamer? Limited to dreams of living rooms?

Boost June of the markets, and harsh republic darkness, we can ensure the commissary looms. Flying over forests of eucalyptus, listing to Rick from The Band sing Holy Cow. Eating some cheese and doing nothing else now, except float along.

Wetlands forming where once were roads, greasy warthogs eating roots in an abandoned carpark. Wet silky grass growing out from this marsh, ghosting building aching from times past. Mikes dropping down the street, potatoes growing under his feet, have you heard the news?

Ishmael continues to deepen their search and steal all that girths, floating again by the sea. Still, there are plastic shells, creatures dying yells, the marks from little wars. No one thinks this is fantastic, the night that seems elastic, and a fortress full of ghosts.

Outgoing kiss

Blissfull darkness

Comes with grey sky’s above

We fight among ourselves

Our money not worth the cost

By the time its to late we still have not stopped

Kissing us kindly death says goodnight

Walrus falling to their deaths

Seas empty of fish, full of nets

Angry boys yelling at us to stop shoving it down their necks

They are already choking too their deaths

Kissing us kindly death says goodnight

Road number 2 1/2

Flossing the neck lamps.

Tramp built guillotine sat.

Glamour daemons anguished upon their fishing from the lists of dark moon rituals.

Calculator buns, fresh from the oven, ready to eat upon their half of the second street, horns and a coven whom hath been gathered.

Onion, Top Hats, Potato, Coal and Hatred used to summon the Captain of the great flush

He’s a tough nut to crack, even standing overdrawn by the rain next to a tobacconist. Muttering sweet hatred into the street corner, hoping your pity is worth another box of dime store magic.

Ever the half-life, shirt stained by ignoble truth he watched them, and all who come to pass. Daemons pay him little if any attention. Go about their endless quest to hear the fires of hell just a bit longer.

Shagging off the last of the most important smoke of the day, sagging and calving edgy cardboard boxes covered in blankets that keeps just enough of the downpour out. Aqualung is muttered, as he slenderly steps into the Dreamlands.

Donkey sky blues (song)

The donky hanging down

Building up all that

Their is no stopping

For Progress, were hard hats

Donkey sky

Donkey sky

Blues

We die slowly

Nothing is growing

Harsh light glowing

City zoo full of fat cats

Donkey sky

Donkey sky

Blues

Look up at growth

For gentrifier sloths

Grope, slurp, rope

We’re guillotined hopes

Donkey sky

Donkey sky

Blues

Diswasher is working

Harsh have the meals been

Plastic simple working memes

Water keys keep us tidy

The beige wall I hate so much

Fire guns and eat mush

All times materials hushed

Oh tea, glorious tea

Cold and wet and stuck in mud

No tanks or even armoured drunk

Ducks in vees, so bend our knees

Hair full of nits and fleas

Dust waves like the sea

The egg of comfortable numbness

In their shell

Egg beyond the pain

Yolk of a unknown self

to find the self truth

Balloons on the brain

Lifting me far away

Helping sit in the abstract beyond

Fine, gone, wrong

Am I good for the hen or cock?

Reciprocity motto layers the beast

Always asleep next to me

Never hatching, like me inside this shell

Paper machine in a paper shell

Egg made by the same name as I

Will I hatch?

Will I latch?

Will I merge with the other me?

I’m scared.

Scared of what will be

It’s ok for now though this egg is comfy

One day though, all the futures I can see

Self-truth is my me

Trinity illustration

Breeze says me

Best come in three lot

Today, tomorrow, yesterday needs

What from this do you hope to achieve?

Can you describe sixty things you have done in the past that demonstrates this?

Are you a robot?

I’m not, but I am,

the product of but social and physical learning and conditioning within…

Instead they ask

I’m a yes but I’m a no

Strong my human blood flows

Can you describe?

Describe

How

You

Are?

But I’m just one person

One thing

A object but not

Money in the bank bank

Food in my fridge

Dream it learn it be it

it it it IT

Shorts working

Saturday morning car drive

History and my sigh

Feisty gritty remake

Watch it now

Again, binge

Consume

Create

Change?

Allowing the thoughts

I’m allowed to feel bad

It’s a personal thing

Not to block out that thing that was mean

Parking it isn’t the theme

We gain more life from letting it seed

Grow from my sadness

Grow from my pain

Grow in the garden

Enigmas grow again

I’m allowed to feel bad

It’s a personal thing

Not to block out that thing that was mean

Parking it isn’t the theme

We gain more life from letting it seed

Grow from my sadness

Grow from my pain

Grow in the garden

Enigmas grow now again

Buggy sapience

Trolley lives in a allotment empty of grace

She waits for the summer nights for her race

Trips to the arthropods doorstep

Eats lunch with the queen, oh yes

Buggy sapience

Trolley gives a simple box of nuts

Payment for protection from buggy mace

Sips tea and nods agreeing sets

Going back home to bed, so wet

Buggy sapience

Trolley takes her axe to another growth of jinx weed

Sees the nuts from it gather on grounds she is pleased

Kid, it’s not a dream, you bet

P’hore

In the darkness, they are waiting

those thoughts

Cycles and rhythms

Tether that has reached its end

Reaper of the sameness

They are full of mindless fury

each day to fight and fight again

For what?

To fight again

This pointless samsara

I am but a performance

Combined of the thousands of deaths

I became the end

They are still waiting

Anticipation for a long war

Rampant growth and angers

I get up and fight again

I cannot be killed

flames lick me

Lava falls upon my shadows

Stars exploding from my depression

Paths close

it will be again that this happens

The purity of that again

I fight against

Which just adds to it

Rock eternal earth

Pebbles in between the toes of trees

Boulders standing aeons beyond memory

Moses gathered on the future sand

Drip all your thoughts of man

Crystalised your minds maps

Silicon only takes short naps

Beech whisper sun and sand

Little creations seek to find caves

Staying among crystals older than any land

The entropy of existing is nothing to a rock

It will always be, and again

Until all the stars are gone

Then begin only then to feel an eternal friend

Snake queen and the devils

Flames of the devils have come among us, first tickling then stabbing at our every pore jarring it future open. Blistering blood floats to the surface bringing with it further heat as if it’s been equally possessed by demonic charge.

—-

Tightly she squeezes, the serpent of winter. Sucking all the heat from the land into her body like a black hole, scaring the landscape with her frosty tendrils, and taking with her the heat. She will lay an egg mid winter and the devils will find it with their heat and incubate it, when it hatches again her daughter will scour the land in her place. Her death and corpse will lead to spring, and be turned to ash in summer. One day though, her body will not die, her daughter will not be born, the devils will not come back, as the frost envelopes the land allowing her to suck all heat forever.

Snailways

All across my path

Rain giving the land blessed baths

Snailways cross and part

Silken rails, drifting trails

On my way to get the mail

Snailways, from a rain-filled day

I need to be with you

Snailways, it another thing telling me

I need to be with you

Snailways, kneel down an say

I need to be with you

Snailways, from a rain-filled day

I need to be with you

Grit the shimmer

I’ve never been able

The grit and the table

Horse and her stables

Bridge lovers cables

Various embodiments of Hagel

Shimmer ever alongside clouds

Light seems to trip all the mounds

Pending upon fur pound

Very trod vent shaped like hounds

Crime embers bring high fowls

Fights dreamed in cowls

Emery gathered and bound

Cherry pie went, four clouds

Rather than this price

A dip for a dollar, a coin in your eyes

Bore onto our gold beads

Explain dolphins to your alien friends

Was on a balmy silver day

Lasting tinctures of single strands of sunlight on whispers of clouds that drip to our outstretched tounges

Quality or sorority, collars and chains

Meaning if this law, this isn’t a brittle magic draw

Drip into dollars, ravens claw

Do we all know the mysteries of Elenor?

Rather than this price, energy is just the working might

Five bottles

Five bottles sitting in the rim

Made of earth, made of glass, spun from of wood, grown from faith, free of sin

full of the flowers of the kings, each dripping with sweet honeydew scent within

pretend they contain your deepest dreams, see the silky skin

the heat, Softness, Full to the brim

I grasp at sunlight to spread upon that skin, to bring it to life, as gaze again

Shock to my scene, a wasp comes in, hoping to score a part of this gorgeous place. It soon brings all of its friends, and they make a neat nest and again I can not be here anymore

Five bottles no longer filled to the brim

The honeydew skilled all over the rim

Spoiled earth, broken glass, burnt wood, chained faith, coated with sin

Look, on the asphalt a stamp

Adapted that flourishing milk that drips from the succulent box. A unlikely case for a senior caseworker such that begins my appointment with this rocky day. Nourish me, lunch! Bring me my sips of caffeine thoughts! I’m dry from my horse whom came to naught.

Typical upon the municipal, supplication of my heuristic predictiveness, I’m a little apprehensive mystic. Instead other things were going on the sappy worry. Learning about the alien concept and bidding on the mobs feet.

I’m typing my fingers to the bone. Blast and through the morning phones. Grown things grown.

Gallery purples

Clearly the pumps down and dump. Blue of heart and pink of blood. Curse the corpse of emotions. It’s a day that strikes my evocation.

Down the waters

Flood the brain

Sea of feeling

Ocean craze

Pure or evil decision to be felt. Crying on a balloon ride beyond a joke. I’m falling in my most empty ways.

Empty of knowing

What mistake

Words have passed

Empty and alone

And here is the sleeping razor

Witch soapbox for a little mousetrap. It’s short and full of minds blooms. Dead and hard in its action, forever crystal in its hate of itself. Duality has its heart fully cooked. Like my most important rainfalls.

Drought tourism

Has taken acting lessons

Misadventure on the streets

Pointillism of pores

I’m sitting on our bed, watching the darkness creep across the street

Little cicadas children hatch in the roots of the trees to crawl up and I start to forestall a night of cream shrieks

out of my clothes, naked and known I wait silently anticipating

titillating

participating

the shown

I want your momentum, your dreamscapes, your flesh against mine

Sheath, shell and reap the kisses and the teeth you touch against mine. Deep inside me, heart beats like the calling, I hear this warm cicada night

Stars bloom my night orchid swoon, engorging like a harvest moon. Cicadas scream as we bloom

Upon my form of lyre, from which I do desire, comes the flanking crops

Up and too, into hear, pain into ecstasy, upon my rear

Purple, your work, draws it’s words

And now, from into your mounds to I give chase, for milk and honey tunes do I need to hear

Faces meet for a repast of lips, it’s a very nice trip, but oh what a trick

I feel your hand below my hip

Little footfall fingers walking across my soft pages, reaching my spine and then down to the other hand playing the next

Often one can feel you break the dam, only to find beavers build it again. Oftentimes I would probably feel anyone but you would fail to break mine so much, that the rupture would be better described as a flooded basement with creaky house attached, but it isn’t possible to be so blasé. I’m flooding everywhere, creaky house pouring like the rain

Down and through this all, my timely means to get to you is but not delayed. For sure as the flood does cease, I am willing it likely to come again and again

Then taste, a good thing inside my mouth, sitting down around a bout, I’m twisted sheets and tongue attached, into caves, crevasses and cracks

No area is to small for my place to drink, lick or eat, it’s all a better meal than ill have this week

Blimp’s Folly

Standing in dawn darkness

Outline of a city below harkens

My frigid breath is icy waves

Cascade froth over the cappuccino gaze

Yellow dust flowers spring to life

Wattle, I breathe in its sand castle essence

Danger clouds face me; moon is a crescent

Up beyond a yellow blimp falls

Diners at the street cafe call

It crashes, down like a wet mop

It’s gallon shape flop, flop, flop

awake

sunlight is reading

Of the time spaces available

Pails of rain disable blue

Creeping winter storm breaks

And those mighty duets take

Our of mind and into place

Aren’t you glad you won your race?

Sunlight is reading the sky’s feelings

fathered triggered by chomping dearest ethers into peepers

The brightening thought is forsake

Leaves open and partake