Those Little Lizards That Stand on Your Skin

Amongst many tiny hairs,
the similar quality,
standing on end as if tiny
prickles or shocks lit them
up.

Creepy, crawly little lizards
that scale the follicle trees
and scream and taunt one another
from atop their grand thrones,
like vagabonds they migrate from
leg to leg, arm to arm,
body to body, passing along
the similar message of fright.

Some excited in the grandeur of the view,
decide to hang around for a while,
keeping the jungles intact, allowing for
movements and dirty conciertos,
sources of fascination and amusement.

Marvelous!

Fear, fear, fear that doesn't tremble their
boughs but instead humbles their
appetites.

out of the tunnel..

Handmade eroticism runs dry
when one too many thoughts
run amok, simply fuck after
fuck after fuck.

Auto-stimulation loses its candor
like a wave breaks and the surfer
slowly loses his mantle.

Anticipation (till the point of no
return) morphs to a feeling of
wickedness and being on your own.

But yet again and again,
one comes back to the screen
with each hand manned,
ready to scream.

Standing alone in venal rapture

The cataclysm of events in the fold,
Three spades in hand
1 out on the river cold.

A Gentle Reminder

Who's the idiot now?

The doctor puts down his medicine and walks over to his cabinet.
What a cabinet! Filled with absolutely no more mystery.
I took the mystery away by learning about this and that.
Damn medical school.

So the doctor decides to swallow them all, just an invitation to
a new pharmaceutical mystery.

Invitation to mystery.
Sounds delightful!
I want some of it, now,
NOW!!

For gods sake, there is no mystery here. This is all NONSENSE.
I am the writer and I am telling you there is NO MYSTERY HERE.
Just boredom! Why if I had a story to tell, I think I could write it better
than this. I am just piecing something together to see if I can find a mystery.
But you see, that doesn't work, at least not this time.

Hell if I could, I would stop this nonsense now, but I am compelled to
try it anyway. Its a god damn mechanism I tell you, just helps you clear
the old neural passages. Or at least masquerades that way.
I honestly don't believe there is much mystery you can encounter
after you've travelled the words enough. The mystery that was ever there
was only there if you wanted it to be there. Otherwise its tomfoolery.

The more you do it, the more you don't! Just a serious of “witty” little exclamations.

Look at me, I know something, I can do this or that!
I am the best at this, at nothing at all! Its what I live for
you damn idiot!
I make the word shit sounds like souffle.

Keep reading me see what it gets you:

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or maybe...
?????????????????????? or perhaps...
........................................ or I really like...
!!!???!?!?!?!???!?!??!??!?

Over and over and over and over and over and over?!!?!?!?? (there have to be 2 ?)
Nonsense! NONSENSE! (if there aren't two ?? then it just isn't the same)

The best of my words amount to “god”'s spit.
At best I can become “god”'s phlegm or a few
god damn euphemisms.

And what is that ?
Revolution ?
Brilliance ?

Realize that stumbling blunders are not unique
but simply a series of fortunate mistakes
that are given form by absurd human thoughts.
We are like festering sutures that need to be stitched up by a crazed,
shaky-handed surgeon with a cabinet full of drugs stretching
the insides of his skin to a thin veneer like dead skin
stretched over a vast ocean of dead, bobbing carcasses.

Facade, bullshit and mimicry.

inventing a new language in english (part 2)

wordsmithing as ceaselessly
controlled drifting
paradigm downshifting
spokerimmed gladness on jetfuel
ready for launch
the pundit pistons
rivers of vibrations reverberating
intense anticipation rushes
as a storm of milliseconds drive by
the moment has not arrived
draft feelings into redlined symbolic tactics
a corridor appears in memory lane
gears gladly grinding going for gold
in the now moves poetic traffic
potential patience performs as cranks get kinetic
momentous moves made on lexical slingshots
flouting defenses after the deafening defiance
only to find oneself back in the pack

inventing a new language in english (part 1)

laps on blades of oxygen
banish me wildly the passionate wind
dance unseen limitless sky
kissing the earth at the feet of Aphrodite
licking rustling laughter swirl
the echoing dichotomies in cacophonous clouds
whisper sweet anythings to rabid rainbirds
and drive deep thunderous bass lines
throbbing thrashing wishing and washing
with adventurous avalanches
painting primer on unwelcoming foothills
smoke on the water with a squall on its tail
lift frantic flurries in dryly frostbitten deserts
arid thirsty cries for warm saline effervescence
around jagged rocks twisting into tabletops
raging fingers blindly crafting Michelangelance
bows to the will of my voice
nevertheless my mind floats on
without an utterance

and now back to the pen

i threw my hat against the wall
it was another burst
you all know mine so well
many smile and accept
others warn and correct
some even suggest

i am not sure you are there
or if i am here

oh, the subtleties of perfection
your smooth curves
taunting
i could taste you

i am not on the edge of a building
life is a swing
give it a good kick.
the more you kick, the further you fly

this is the difference when i connect
using time and space
i can breathe through these lines