Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Thinking of Previous Knowns Not To Know No More...

Cull cull culling acquaintances since reached 5 year marker. Left right centre, and redundancy to the jokers. Names and faces I should not be obligated to for sharing 7 horrible years of imprisoned minds and opinions too forced, too many, and vanity judgement immaturity. Dim to think some exceptional soul bond was formed eternally burning til death do we part, over coffee.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Forget Me Not...

where do your forgottens go?
back into the ether so I can pick them up later

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Different Shoes and the Perspective Down Looking Up & Up Looking Down...

A rich man asked a poor man "what's it like?"
The poor man asked the rich man "are you really happy?"
Silence. They think of how to answer

2:45am Thinking of the Possible Reincarnation of Great Souls as Messiahs, Guides (and thinking of no countries)...

There are ancient souls living, and which have lived, lives shared of tens of men and women, periodically--Cosmic alumni, learned guides to mankind--The desperate demographics, the ignored minorities, have the strongest voices, have the sharpest hearing--To recognise such souls whose words travel faster and further than bullets--Complete mesmirization over those with eyes like a child, everything bright and improvable, a 'just is' essence to life--By mere gesture, movement, tone, dress--Reminders of universal, indisputable, incorruptible, unprejudiced laws long forgot by some, or in some cases, most--Karmic phenomenon collective, combinations to Karmic vault--Every inch of physical vessel [entity] bathed in love, for love, give and receive, closing circles completing cycles--Principles make man, none make grand fools delusional of grandeur; importance, integrity, longevity of impact and influence.

The best candidate for the reincarnation of Jesus Christ is Gandhi.
These souls I speak of are cosmic apostles and messenger souls of the way to truth and infinity, reincarnated for the masses, for the lovers, to confront the indifferent and bellicose--Providing ways to peace for all. If we listen we can help achieve a common goal.

Earth
Sea
Land- borders and countries illusion, laws are finite.
We all live on the same piece of land, it's just broken. 



Sunday, February 13, 2011

Sunsets Lately...

A sudden, heavy, undeniable, inescapable, confrontational truth has dawned on me... 
My monotony has become me. I've lost all of my direction, and for the first time in my entire life I feel completely lost.

What the fuck am I doing with my life?


Thursday, February 10, 2011

HWY'74...

From afar mountain peaks looking like jagged tips of knives 2 dimensional cardboard stage show artwork movie set landscape framed by the sky framing lakes.

Noit Abre Tsam...

The solitary lonely self loving totally free pursuit of consistent fantasy achievable in one's own level and power of imagination, but not outwardly received and/or respected.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Death, Not The End; Beginning, Marriage To Infinity...

The veil will be lifted, God will kiss you, and you will understand everythingYou will denounce time, as it is purely a materialisation of man's persistence to try and control, and organise, something he cannot accept is bigger than himself. It will be revealed that your life is slow motion in a never ending moment that pre-existed, and will continue to exist. You will realise that only one true ego exists, for you and your brother, sister, friend, acquaintance and stranger, are all the same soul, made of the stars, and share the one higher consciousness in this life, and once ego has perished there will be no other death to come.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Rattus Norvegicus...

Dream rat with monkey teeth, wrinkly old man fingers and corgi body structure attacking cat

Acceptable Butchery...

I wonder what kinds of people make pathologists and coroners

http://hauntstyle.blogspot.com/

http://visualrian.com/storage/PreviewWM/0450/20/045020.jpg?1103728260

Down Without An Elevator...

The rains came like millions of tiny water bombs
Hammering my home from war hungry clouds
And lightning bolts from war of the worlds
Or some Greek myth
Disrupting my crude and futile relaxation techniques
Feeding my anxiety like kerosene soaked saw dust
Promising today, was going to be a strange day
Flooded roads and wetland rapids chasing birds away
Street light power outage, furious accelerators with
Southern Cross windows and singlets behind wheels
I was diggin Suicide Blues with a Surya cigarette
Indonesia's finest cloves and cancer
Window down in traffic with my navy and cream v-neck
Wishing I was already in Kingsbury to plug the Cube
and communicate with Roland
There was commotion underneath the bypass
A blue policeman with blue vest
admiring brand new death
Why did you leap to greet asphalt? A lazy ragdoll on the single lines
A pocketful of desperation, you never got the right amount of change
Shocking static physicality, a body without spirit
That's to say I didn't see it
Did you arrive at hope? The fictional refuge of lost souls
that know there's nothing left but luck
so they give it a label
Had luck not found you just yet?
What if your knees buckled and you fell backwards
to the other side of the barricade
Instead of to the Other Side, of this crazy birdcage?
Would you have tried a little harder?
Somewhere a mother has lost a son
Maybe some kids will never get a father back
It never gets so bad, but it could never get worse than that
Did you leave the house on a mission?
Today your mission was to die
Maybe it was pre-meditated, and you meditated on it too much
With your mentality darkened you were already gone
Did you really think you'd never miss a thing?
Why couldn't you hold on to being human
and what it's all about?

Friday, February 4, 2011

The Death Rattle...

New York Times website
New York Times website

New York Times website
New York Times website
New York Times website

Thursday, February 3, 2011

The Exterior of Mystique...

1000 dark skinned brothers
swarm in naked water
holding up the rising sun
to shine on their Sitars

shadow of a tree branch
hollow, dancing charmed
black and untouchable
to cosmic vibrations

folding over mirrors
hiding evil spirits
from ganja smoke and
cremation by the Ganges

joyful of fictional death
holy men and yoga
forging future spiritual
contribution to a nation

rags floating by on walking
sticks, of ebony and myrrh
ravenous stomachs growl
like tigers from Rajasthan

tikatiktik the rickshaw rattle
rick-rick-rock-a-rolla-rickshaws
on streets of ancient cobble