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
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
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.
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
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.
Three stones in a row
Little leaves cut off at the stem to prune the tips
Three breaths in and out
Cocoa in a hot red mug set
Dreams wrote down in a comfy book by the bed
Dancing with the birds in the morning
Wabbling dogs walking in the evening
Patterns of ritual I remember and forget
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
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
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
Dreaming right beside
Clouds of hidden eyes
Warming bodies bide
Sleeping without kind
Lonely love aside
Hugging nothing rides
Breathing or is it reaving
Deep how is the keeping
Sheep woolly heaping
Walking justice hides
Open third sides
Cock ticks rhyme
Open your bowls
Three carrots sticks old
Sky soy and rolls
Badly shouted miso soup
Gravy made in glass droop
Close your forks
Rat tongues fried with pork
Devils justify their lords feast of course
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?
Smash up your limousine
Take over all the pralines
Eat my oysters in Vaseline
Got to be able to work green
Crack up the tarmac
Mouth of a sarlac
Gout attack far back!
Sticks in my cognac
Grimed hi fives survive
Hatchlings storm upon the graves
Stave, are you still to betray
Guillotine takeovers to persuade
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
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
Purple Heat beats heavyweight record
Legs of steel, stew filled stomach
Tapping grey leaves, strapless breeze
The cords fully from overflowing swords
Reel after reel, old films rewarded still
Cheese keystone eves, casino knees
I’m going to see
You are my past breath
It’s on the bus stop
Inside of the fruit shops
Drown out the tanka
Heart swims to heart
Eating perfect tarts
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
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
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.
Recreate my computers place
As a holographic Elvis sings with a passionate face
Removing a lacewing Ace
The code of the late
Necromancing the digital world
Comes from an analogue alive girl
Having find recreations of a man who hurls
Watch it all unfurl and bump on that Tumblr world
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
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
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 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
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.
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
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
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
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
