Mandelbrot Set
I am capsized
by our ocean
is your eyes,
sudden ignis fatuus
gawk rainbow mandalas
intertwining everywhere.

Pirates joined our camp-site
hidden behind a wall of sand
on the coast of California-
The hooded Bodhisattva 13:20 brought thousands of watts
that projected a psychedelic trance
into our Earthly space
that we were all free to tap into.


When the sun appeared
for the second time and all eyes
is the ocean
bared my back and carved
L O V e
in pebbled sand.
friends and pirates up on the cliff
where the hooded gathered together
Roaring, and smoking tea-
Jian narrates every move.

Out there that morning
some kind of ancient treasure washed up.
it was intangible
and I saw it without my eyes
as it swarmed around me
as I, surrendering my balance, absorbed in transcendental ecstasy.
If you're ever cold just stay
in motion, and if you
ever want to dance
just know I'da loved to, too.

4/4
O banyan
tan yoni
Yin yang
of love, I melt all across my map

and I drew a mandala
of triangles
on your nape
while you dreamt of hovering pyramids . .

. . while life is a song-
You sing it for fun.
The word 'Universe' is just an interlude;
Abridged.

spine

We,

are upside down

I want to spin you

inside out

and I want to know what this existence

is all about

We,

are stuck, but

I'm soaring thru the desert sky-

You wished me a myriad of luck

but it was so unnecessary, dreaming

of the light that caused

the Spark.

Life is like dominoes,

choice is a spined illusion~

painting

inside the head
thru a spectrum of
inner animatic gates
all tied, fluid as a
rainbow
'round midnight

and inside is god,
happy as the suns'
eye's shut.

sphere's shadow of a
butterfly

Daly City transmission

Dear Ocean, I hear you splish
in my own voice.
Somehow none of this makes sense . .
But it's simple,
and infinitely complex.

 

 

 

 

Quick ! !
Jot down what was
last spoken to YOU
by the owl, kicking up dust
in that dream,

It's memory

tied to a silver string

leading you back to that brain you just
blinked back inthru.

So quiet I could hear

the spider bungee jumping

off a shadow book shelf

up above,

surreal silky astral spider web trails

like a dream,

like a dream I hear Earth

whisper Turtle's Katabatak

out of a small fire

of eyes,

Stars Twinkling.

Pulse

between the eye

in the palm.

Dreaming now

of river hands

spilling rainbows

and truth through the muscles

in cosmic waves, and anxious shudders-

CLOSE YOUR EYES

after the brain

storm

rains

one division;

One thought

One Heart

Beat

Physicless

Pacific O Mouthed

windy after-noon on

the coast of California

as long white strands of

sand stone hair

conjoins to the membrane of Oceania,

and dips deeper

and deeper

like the snailick tentacles of a Man-O-War

Reaching toward the mute mermaids,

even Further-

and Men

with gills

crawl up the Bonsai

out there

growing gills, like I said

as Insomaniacal sings his Mantra:

"Let's go back into

the ocean" Over and

over,

underneath a Bonsai anti-lung,

'neath our Sun

 

 

 

Look deep into the eyes

of bored

eternal angels

who float above the bonsai's

and leave their halos hanging from

the branches 'cause

Earth is H E A V E N L I E S T.

It was then,

that I harvested the unicorn

and replaced her forehead food

with a beautiful spiral cone

that shined for thirty seven years (In one moment).

I was not hungry the next day,

Riding that unicone

into what appeared to be morning

but only the Mountain Lions were

O so certain,

she sighed.

Big sur

I like muddy echoes.
They barely make it
'cross the river
only to be reflected
back by the forest on
the other side.
Those obese squirrels conspiring-
I LOATHE
as they chit-chat
behind my curled back
with Blue Jays,
and so many spiders.

I LOVE watching them

all

degather like some
fluttering mandala
somehow making
Sound .

O the sorcery of butterflies
trailing thru thin air
as every moment surrounds itself
with a ripple,
or an Echo.

Omar,
whatever you do-
There's an observer on the wing
of your whirlwind
strings,

Meditate on Sensory Decay ||

pounding on my auratic shell

I watch outside explosions of sacrament

passed some time

forgetting I had teeth,
Panning for thoughts,
Visions of eyes
In fire

old dolphin tale
it's time to take my medicine, we spoke
and thought about other thoughts.
Mine spirals
you know,
near the ashes on my sill
like sill, it
sits there,
awaiting wind, or what's within the wind,
Like an eagle-
or a spore.

We walked, once.
Or I did at least
because those few moments
the Porpoise is above the ocean,
Their home (ours too-)
Resonates their consciousness
throughout our vast atomic Ocean.
And all at once,
the shaman dolphin dives,
Deep-
There, Giant squids of
Wisdom
plant their seed and Whisper
Bioluminescence
like a shot of H
into the mouth
on the sidewalk,
Looking into somebodies side-view mirror
uva parked Mazda 626.

Once given the seed,
The dolphins careen toward the Sur-
face
not in search of enlightenment,
Not in search at all, you see-
They're just Swimming, faster
and Faster, Weaving upward
like an S.

(slow motion)
They break the diamond glass,
the untense tension
of the surface,
They feel the wind,
maybe a bug, or a sea gull,
They feel our air, O Our
Precious air we mix with
SHIT

I stop time,
and walk over to the dolphin
Which is now a few feet above the ocean surface,
Which is my floor
because this poem's so Fictional
and make-believe but it doesn't matter
Nothing does I know this
I know this
I walk on water
and I know this
And I touch the dolphin
And I know this
And I cut the North Star.
A halo around the dolphins head
Still in stopped time-
O Her brain
tastes motionless,
No taste, no time
No energy in motion
Nothing to convert
No taste!
So I start time.

To taste-
I start time to
Taste the brain of the being.
The one above the ocean,
I Start time and I'm pulled into the wet Earth,
Her salty sea
I'm submerged and it all sounds
so ethereal.
No high frequencies down here, it's nice, calm,
close, low,
and RED.
So red
I'd swear this was the red sea,
But to be honest
Blood,
absorbing blood
into meyes,
I haven't the slightest clue where I am--
and this half-headless dolphin of
mine . .
I just sort of made it up
And we made it exist, With or without
time.

Ah, those few moments
the Porpoise is above the ocean,
Their bloody home, (devolved)
Resonates their bottle-nosed consciousness
throughout our salty atomic Ocean.
And all at once,
the shaman dolphin projects
the energy of the mind
and receives similar Impulses
from other porpois-like
beings orbiting other
stars,
in the universe.

It's primitive.
Tribes used
to describe
the psilocybe
mushrooms
not only as
Sacred,
but as The
Microphone of
The Overmind.
Yeah, They
believed they
could
communicate
with amphibian-
like beings
on orbs
orbit other stars
scientists
can't seem to find,
either.

There's a luxurious song on the radio,
but something disrupts the signal
and you hear yourself
in the Future, coming outa the Speakers singin':
Jason,
there's a seed of consciousness
in every single atom.
The dense neural network in y-
Our brain's a massive gathering
of these seeds, each contributing
(at once) to our current conscious
state.
Like computers, just getting faster
and faster
'cause they're denser
and can do more in the Mome-
(white noise prevails)

Evolution
Daddy . .
Your legs are long-
Crawling up the wall.

and then a fox stands up,
and whispers to the moon
i Love you.

On Transcending Unconsciousness
ok- ok, ok,
A quite peculiar lot of monkeys believe
that
We are all experiencing One Consciousness,
One that is Universal,
And subjective to the observers,
You, and me.
Thus-
When I act, and believe I am something else-
I'm actually partitioning our consciousness
like a hard-drive,
You see?
For however many moments I'm the product
Of some other data
Manifested from thy withinity.

I sank to the bottom of the vast moonlit
Lake of the unconscious one night,
-as a smooth blue stone mantra, fully aware-
while my body you might be able to identify if i've met you
just lied there in a bed,
Tight-jawed and Alert
for surfacing sounds that come from
beneath a door

*
c'mon,
i'm riding the crest,
won't you join me
down, down?, down- mhmm.
C'mon and sing 'cause
we actually can
mmhmmm~

as a child
i took apart VCR's,
and played with Lego's until it was
cool to balance on a skateboard,
Balance I did-
that led to Mike, who showed
me what a bong was.
The glass thing near my toothbrush-
The vase with green skulls and cone-shaped protrusion-
This took me back to when I was 5,
Koreans teaching us how to meditate
only realizing the significance
and insignificance of inner self
after leaving the Studio.

O Master Suh!
I fall like cat.

last day blues

And it goes like this: God's are all up there in the firmament
of Heaven ablaze with Long-lost etheric
scents occurring in the Future
from Your current perspective, as an observer.
-but ya know, like potent flowers-
Truth is.
They're all sick to their energy bodies of our crawling
thru the daylight,
Complaining about the salty sweat
they wring out
which is like the long-lost magnet
of Attraction-

and noises! especially the whispers
that remind them of their filthy Rat products-
O Clothes-
my obligated disguise,

i'll start by taking them off and burning them.

and I left two sofas in my first
and trashed apartment
Due to the realization
i belong near trees, rivers, mountains
and I've never seen a real Sloth.
Fuck this carpet-
This plastic bag says this Mojo Mix is fancy
and ok I suppose I agree
with the bag---
Who's all here?
Just me and a bag of nuts, with colorful
chocolate buds, with raisins.
It's the LAST DAY

THE LAST DAY
AND NO ONE
SUMMER-SAULTS-------

Amicable mien (Strings.)
I'm going to go walk,
North- that's where the moon's @ Tonight.
Her bottom side all crescent as my finger nail I spit
like jazz
just two days after being clipped, reflecting
shining sun like the inverted shadow cast by a
breast of one of Gods' Mistresses with
her back arched across a sky dubbed
Midnight

airwalk
Fruit flies masturbate with
their noses.
They appear to me as a network of
sister stars,
all cloud-like in fast forward (FF).
Catching the rift of the other flies,
the bug orbits around another one
with wings so merrily,
merrily, merrily-
O memories
corrupt like files on
my hard drive.

It's come to the point now
when I look outward on Earth,
Up, If you will,
There are so many pixels
of particles absorbing into my eyes,
just a moment enough for them to be sensed.
In between my five-pointed body
and the star I'm meditating on
(It must be a planet,
the sun hasn't even set..)
there are only my eyes himself,
and the ever so surreal
fruit fly shuffle dance----
Another human identifies me.

Vocalizes a pattern,
my name.

My name. I see her waving,
across the park, near the swings.
This isn't gravity but I get up
and go orbit around
another one with wings.

*
I took a piss on an indigo easter egg that some customer
must have dropped in the urinal that I'm faced with
and some low end vibration suddenly starts emitting
from the tiled walls,
now I'm starring into Michael's mirror
@ the reflection of my personal atomic compilation
somehow humming,
Emitting too,
with my cactus throat and
Mouth in tune with the frequency,
phasing up and down.

Listen to the Sines
to hear the wavelengths shudder.
The bathroom Key,
that I sort of stumbled upon
flowed thru me for a minute.

I play this game where my vision
flows out the single-paned window
of the house where I type this
and observe all the cars that
NEVER cease to pass.
Picking apart the vibes
from every human that
my third eye focus's on.
it's not that complicated
but I look at them too, and
their machines, LIKE HIM-
76 years old driving a '96
Dodge Ram. Fully loaded.
Extended cab. Huge side mirrors,
You can just tell that that truck
is the fucking truck of his dreams.
That when he bought that truck a Decade
ago, that man KNEW he would drive it straight
into the grave. He figured he'd
buy the ultimate machine.
O all these thoughts
as impulses.
Sweet hydroponics,
Highs lifting the bay area
into the future.
A chubby man in a suite-disguise across the street,
In a stop sign shape
and color
It does not say STOP,
but LEASING, and a phone number.
He's standing next to it! With a tie
'round his neck and he's programming
Something around his wrist!
37 cars drive by in a minute down
Winchester, I'm right on the corner of
Greentree.
if you want to get high just
come find me.
I've got a wind chime that I stole
while I was riding my balance machine
past Long's,
with no real destination in mind.
If you see it,
the one with the frogs,
the one with the flowers,
and the mushrooms.
There are some purple glass orbs, some green ones too
and there's copper threads spiraling
around them.
A volvo, a Limo,
a Celica, a Tourag.

And now I've stepped into a Lexus
and I'm flying to a designated place
where we can hunt for food,
we know it's there, and we'll trade
others
Our green paper that we got
for spending our physical time
somewhere else
For it,
wondering who could be peering thru their window
wrapped in a blanket in the dark,
resembling the swamp thing
every child sees on television.
Will they see this smile
these sunglasses in the night?

Interrupted by the driver-
she begins to explain to me that
"When in rome..."
But I laugh,
and tell her how much
I hate you,
America.

Here,
It's custom to gaze into the television,
and take shits in gurgling porcelain seats,
in the smallest shiny
reflecting rooms
in every corner
of everywhere!
They're even split by
gender.
Every drunk pees in
the bush
glowing toward the moon
like a sting ray
everywhere,
from the beautiful portion of Earth
that America seized.
It's ours.
it's all ours
and their's,
and it's no one's.

*

whistling,
a short burd stuck in orange boots almost up to her
knees hops on the black line,
the elevator side
and slides down on her ass,
Gathering momentum, careening toward
the first floor.
It was a beautiful thing to see something so RAVISHING
to thou soul unexpected,
Not that I really ever expect,
but you know-

of here.
who clenched their bare knees around a whirled branch
in the absence of our moons?
who haggled the roots to the seeker?
the light for the shudder?
Spined Thing.
Who was there when I emerged, but
my devolved copy
now wized with so much life?
she's my mother,
and I am her divided by
a gorge, a rope tied on both sides
though,
for climbing across.
Who takes off all their clothes
and learns to see with closed eyes
when it's warm?
And if it's cold,

who tapped their way out?

moving
Introductions could last the entire lifetime
of a fly. Here's to the american dime,
and sudden shudders down the humans spine,
minding his Zosros to uncurl then shine
(in) the sun.

a poet enlightened and resonating lightly,
collecting smoke, tangled up in his lotus nightly.
who wrote from moons,
and plastic spoons
can be found in the corners on the carpet.

the sunshine was tile
and it took him a while
to really rotate, and see,
that all these branches coming back to me.
my brainstorm.

dusty clouds
are likely shrouds
of other eyes
and maybe flies
will gather.

panic struck our waltz,
Let's move along now to the vaults
of Oboe's
and old Lego's
that kids never found,

I can not help it,
I'm barely here on Earth
so when I write
I'm usually somewhere weightless and
orange.

*
Don't fucking go outside.
she muttered to the unaural,
but where are the quotation marks?
STAY IN THE FUCKING HOUSE
but the kid was deaf,
and he hitched a ride with 5 pixies and some Yarn.
They took him to their redwood,
higher than the highest barn.

It just so happened to be a full moon,
Poor kid loved the moon so much!
the pixies Sacrificed his deaf ass.

March 21, 2006 years after Jesus died.
I've got a medics satchel,
and a shamans djembe
carved with the two teeth
uprooted from the shrunken
Head

I've got a fox in sight. She vibes when my rhythm is
projected thru resonance; dissolve
Like the body of her acoustic during light rain,
Or Ravi's drone strings,
his last vibration
an aubade whisper,
Laughing downhill,

Every time I wake
I'm really born again and she shuts the aperture I crawled thru-

Dream Letter
"Happy trails to you."
signed,
Dream

I prefer my chemical balancing
to not be balanced at all. (This is absolute balance)
This is also where Analog comes in.
What I mean is,
I learn hands on.
And i Know
that I Love
to
Love.

Letter to my senses
Dear Senses,

I thought for sure I had lost all aspects of our Mind-
That there were no glances
here.
I have no eyes,
no use for you
when I'm tired and duck back down into the subconscious
where my energy body will Roam,
and See.
I stumbled upon this knowledge,
and Found a place where I can dance without
you, limbless.

Where was it all along?
While mind,
remained unlocated-
You can not lose
what's not been found,
right?

So I Sat,
and realized
that I was a hairy coincidence of molecules who somehow
due to evolution
Thought about My Thoughts.

I, Conscious
+
Cohesive
tune you out,
my Sensors-
I speak to you verbally and detect with you.
I think about how I am Thinking about Identifying where my mind is in space.

Will I ever get the chance to choose?
Or Was I going to write this letter all along? Every smear I sense as symbols through you,
Here I am reacting to actions
in this Natural process
on a beautiful rock
overflowing with humans
who're really products of
ACTION
reacting and casting a spell
upon the galaxy
with our triumphant song
of an existence we
observe(d)
And Will for as long
as we can.

Just like that I feel the overwhelming beauty swarm-
the essence of all living things
Breathing down my neck,
Licking my few Freckles
like a girl speechless;
Physical.

I communicate to my
Senses now,
to know I just
THOUGHT
about how I feel so strange out there on Concrete.
There used to be vast orchards
Right here
on Quito,
on Cox!
on Campbell!

Still,
all of this was going to
HAPPEN
all along,

Therefore,
Free Will doesn't exist at all-

you know,
I could also say that free Will DOES exist,
and in this sense, I would be referring to the mind,
Once again,
Free will does exist as a concept in our mind
because we acknowledge it
Through you,
our Sensors.

I can not stop thinking about
how the Earth herself is going to
fix our overpopulated mess of amusement-
Just right then, symmetry rained down my face
and lit the magnesium ribbon crawling toward a
Thought:

How weird it felt to Be-
To be is
to be balanced.

We all know there is an
equal and opposite reaction to every
single action,

We, as Space,
are unfolding into
the future;

an insignificant display of LIFE

A parade for the City Mayor
who wears his wig anonymously.

I am the wind blowing that mans toupee far
FAR
away.

I become the forest
you,
My Senses,
draw-

that I am drawn to
thru morning rays.

Pools of translucent
Manna,
where Native americans would
grind walnuts
in the shade.

P.S. I beg of you with motion to gather all of the data necessary to locate Mind.
So I can watch
my body
Tumble
from the third Person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*
Watch me.
O Please just Fucking watch me
Collapse;
deemphasize molecular cohesion,
I GIVE THESE CELLS BACK!
either womb will do.

Two sees eye on a lilly pad
pedro's mouth,
all full of green
And I'm up on my knees
with no clothes in sight.
Green tea in
My lighter Can't Die-
Not Now-
O Fire,
use heat
to convert this flower's
energy into
me.

Doppelganger(for Brittany Schmid)
duck down to my domain
.........................and balance,

on the contrary-
..muddled moment
..makes me mingle
..intoxicated through
...OUR MIND

Come to think of it,
your eyes tend to narrate tomorrow's full moon;
castle walls;
a good close look at moss behind a bound bamboo ladder
where some ones dare not go.

Ocular,
.....glance
.....geisha-white
.....Inspiration,
.....at the bottom right hand
.....corner
.....She gets a kick out of curving said symbols.

Mouth,
..To drink my words of unspoken lucidity on the Rocks-

..To dream is to project,
subject,
and receive.

(Not to mention revive)

Jotting down,
O the "Radar Honeybee"
Transmits back to me
data I compile
for the Company.

You and I
with our Jeans and our consciousness
We are all antennae
projecting, sharing our existence.

duck back down now
into your sleep
where you dream
and You rest,

your subconscious is begging for your unconscious to become conscious.
So what-
you overexcited your nervous system for half of a day,
and i bet it felt like a constant morning stretch in the sun as displayed by Monet.

Quit my job and this quatrain so i could watch clouds.

Footloose
jupiter rests under her own moonlight
we approached the tip of the dock with unnourished canniness
and with a pinecone blink of an eye in the bark, i took flight!
slept naked in a crater
and I! the first man on the moon!
exempt, and not liable for any radiation,
doesn't fly a flag,

NASA sure had great light sources-
mocking our sun
shame on their pseudo sun!
quasi liars!
yawning, with a stretch
peed my name w/no hands into the moon dust
and soared around the galaxy like a sun fish
insusceptible, almost favored by the ether
i'll skate the rings of saturn!
gillless, you'll never find me in the vast oceans on titan
'cause i'll never sail it.
our earth, oh she is so peaceful crescent and quiet.
O the things i've heard down there...

unable to find DrawSprocket context:
i stood up tall-
shot my first into the sky!-
i wailed, i yelped "YES! "
swagger and oscillating
staggering, bended, pulsate!
wobble! wavering! weaved!
leaning, fluctuater! inclined, pendulate-o!
rock, roll, swing, sway
vibrate, careen, lurch, undulate!
until i just tripped backwards and ate shit on a rock


sucked into the rift-raft of drone strings leaking into our lightless void
my eyes, well the molecular structure that constitutes the eyes
naturally, we devolved well into my pockets regulating with the beginning sunshine that unveils, unlocks!
that lacerates, unfolds and unfastens
bursts, jimmy, pops and penetrates.
the muktuk seeps through bark
and releases the flying ear that hears the sitar structure of spectral groans.

leaping through the dark

spend the night
with a pocket full of stars
deeper than Haleakala
no
deeper than Olympus Mons.
deeper than mother nature's sticky indent
so Wet.
deeper slith the giant squid.
deeper the aquatikids tugged their air balloons
repeed the same word as a prefixed compilation
deeper chronicles
deeper intervals
deeper everything else but-
to keep my nut from busting.

mirror magnifying i am a musical magnet from room to room to sky-
Shallow sleep,
a thumb-like halo docked
you breathe.

Walking
is that a lion's peek?
perched atop the waterfall is triumph,
courage!
and a fierceful mane of threaded sunshine
O how it scorches his fuzzy face-

here we are with King
Thistle's the name,
chillin' on three rocks
and fields of moss.
but the sun evades
as our future Temp darkness
fades
into final daylight.
no fight-
no fight.

mine eyes decay
with fluttered fur.

three mushrooms underneath a rock that we lifted and balanced on three other rocks.
I was told i was becoming the rock.
and O!
O...

imagine eleven moons.
pretend you are something beyond four limbs and brain.

go find a dolphin!
in fact,
in perceived fact.
fact from sensory,
by sensors!
two dolphins twenty paces from a shore of russian snow
setting the sun into the gulf
to engulf it with salt-water, of course.
in morse,
the sailors chat
to layers
up on layers
of summers warmth-
their colors displayed
exploding!
I can't help but think 'goodbye sun'
but why in english did this sympathy translate and occur in my mind or brain?
Imagine it from the roof of tunnel train.

Fall into a vortex
and spin!
you can become weightless
up there,
where chemicals process
neurons spark
memories park
and are towed away
in pieces
every single time you somehow menacingly display them to your self conscious to be analyzed by the observation via sensory.

Via sensory this epic earth I stand and judge
swaying with moontrees-
Imagine yourself free.
where is my courage?
where is that lion?
what is this concrete?
This madness-
This crazy fucking irrational obligated manifesto! !

O look at the stars!
some pulsate!
some stars orbit around other stars!
They spin
and planets spin
with me
as I
Imagine Saturn.
simple as that.

and now a sea lion
plump as luna's ass
falls dumbfounded
into the pacific grass.
beware of great whites!
they haveth no evolutionary drive!
no strive
for change.
just push on with gills,
you silly beast.
Flop! Squock! Splash!!

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

sunshine through the fall of a thousand leaves.
listening to three rhythms in the cacophony
on a log.
O i could try to describe to you the stream that carried me away
just beneath my feet.
and O how i could try to explain the feelings that occurred
somewhere in my head.
but O! it felt so amazing to be alive! !
triumphantly strumming on strings that flicked my pick into the crick
just beneath my feet.
yellow it was, marching away,
to be picked up by some other musician,
some other day.

not that that stopped us.

we ventured passed the sunshine
to the graveyard of stones
where the lake should have been.
and with this wind we swarm
the music
into existence
under the Himalayan tree
where the griffons landed.

frail-
the gypsies eyes,
as she wept
for commerce
under soft moonlight
Himalaya.

*

when was the last time you were certain?
Earth's uneasy hitchin a ride on stacked tortoise.
Her doppelganger waves through space;
Small feet,
of jålstrom's comet
dust.

safe distance is the intangible.

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

I am nine, egypt.
Forgive me,
for the essence.

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

a painted face 10/31/2005 STIH5
It wasn't long
before the saddest song
arose from the dust of warmer
vibrations

And there my Jack-O-
lantern flickered
I could barely comprehend,
Fathomed Pumpkin Transmission.

For hours it smiled,
and hummed,
and wished,
it would wish.

And for hours I could too,
but these doors!;
Zosros,
the romance from mind to mind.

[how can I just roam around completely foreign american land, such as the Los Gatos residential flats (riding the waves of the mountains), and frantically run up to these peoples' humble homes wallowing six echoes of the menacing "TRICK-OR-TREAT"! THEY pop out from behind their doors, masturbating with alcoholic enthusiasm, to shove candy in our satchels.]

hand it over,
meaningless chit-chat.
just give me the candy.
Life is so fucking weird.

Zosros 10/14/2005
in the morning of the moon,
I sat with wide eyes
and one sock
peeling away the wax
Clinging to my cock
in the very first sunshine,
Ever.

"drifting sand cow"
the majestic of King Thistle's palace!
a coat of arms for the limbless,
as Galaxy contemplates this room.
she slowly falls and somewhere in a cloud, two delicate muscles that surround the eyes give up.
black holes embedded behind locked doors,
i tip-toe through candles and corridors, weightless.
coexisting, tick and tock skip hand in hand with a liquid motion from shrunken heads.
horns melt flags as dancing occurs
surrounding!
swarming through this rhythm!
these eyes!
O these eyes of yours! !

and thus a candle is burning, i
loved the phoenix of mars
in early october
until i could no longer hear.

'watched the pacific inflate their balloons that would eventually reach our moon
rising from the ocean,
sailing physicless through bent planes and corneas
a hand full of waves.

i decide to block out the sun from twin lakes
and with this hand i pluck our precious star right behind the first swell of clouds
THE ISLAND OF HUNDRED FOOT ROBOTS BECOMES VISIBLE!
where they dance slow motion in bushes of eucalyptus forest!
where a shooting star electricit bluedom burns in B minor for a moment as every vile of chemical emotion spills!
where my limbs!
quick sand!
slow acid!
where the two lighthouses breathe light!
on rocks.

i met a guy named kyle who said that humans used different parts of their brain as they progressed through their life. i sparked my wick,
and thus a candle is burning, i loved