Wednesday, September 22, 2004
I am a Traveler
I have traveled unto the East.
Into the glow of the rising sun.
Mine eyes witness what only minds can comprehend.
Wages pure, sight unseen, eternally indeterminate.
Lend me your hand, for rising has become difficult.
I proclaim nothing -
Nothing more than a steadfast grip in the darkness.
As men, we are all on the level.
Show you have brought your tools.
Show you have more light to give.
Then we shall be brethren without blood,
I have traveled unto the East.
Into the glow of the rising sun.
Mine eyes witness what only minds can comprehend.
Wages pure, sight unseen, eternally indeterminate.
Lend me your hand, for rising has become difficult.
I proclaim nothing -
Nothing more than a steadfast grip in the darkness.
As men, we are all on the level.
Show you have brought your tools.
Show you have more light to give.
Then we shall be brethren without blood,
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Daily Thoughts.
I want my music back. People keep menatally stealing it from me. Especially one person. She stole like 4 albums from me. I cannot listen to them now. Maybe later.
I hate this election. It is so full of partisan crap. I don't even care who wins anymore. Hell, if George Soros wants it so badly, he can be President.
Today's color? Blue. Why?! Well, why the fuck not? Who are you to question?
Given that all things are upon the "level of time", I cannot help but feel very impermanent right now.
People in the Society for Creative Anachronism (Renaissance fair actors) really piss me off...Almost as badly as clowns do. Why can't we give them Wyoming, or some other remote area in which to cavort in tights, and use phrases like "bonnie lass"?
I don't really feel depressed, I'm just an actor - playing a depressed character in an unpublished network mini-series aptly titled "I'm So Full of Shit".
Your mesh trucker cap sucks, and somewhere deep-down inside, you know it. Take it off, and burn it already.
I want my music back. People keep menatally stealing it from me. Especially one person. She stole like 4 albums from me. I cannot listen to them now. Maybe later.
I hate this election. It is so full of partisan crap. I don't even care who wins anymore. Hell, if George Soros wants it so badly, he can be President.
Today's color? Blue. Why?! Well, why the fuck not? Who are you to question?
Given that all things are upon the "level of time", I cannot help but feel very impermanent right now.
People in the Society for Creative Anachronism (Renaissance fair actors) really piss me off...Almost as badly as clowns do. Why can't we give them Wyoming, or some other remote area in which to cavort in tights, and use phrases like "bonnie lass"?
I don't really feel depressed, I'm just an actor - playing a depressed character in an unpublished network mini-series aptly titled "I'm So Full of Shit".
Your mesh trucker cap sucks, and somewhere deep-down inside, you know it. Take it off, and burn it already.
Denial, baby.
You asked, I did.
You wanted, I went.
Darling devil, poison maiden;
Antifreeze sweetness coats my throat.
You have nothing...
Nothing to worry...
Worry your little head...
Head about anymore...
Safe -
Fear outside burns, rages.
Cynical cry, stagnant paces.
Entombed in your room.
Humming Joydrop's Cocoon.
You asked, I did.
You wanted, I went.
Darling devil, poison maiden;
Antifreeze sweetness coats my throat.
You have nothing...
Nothing to worry...
Worry your little head...
Head about anymore...
Safe -
Fear outside burns, rages.
Cynical cry, stagnant paces.
Entombed in your room.
Humming Joydrop's Cocoon.
Wednesday, August 25, 2004
Living for reasons that matter (to me).
I live for:
The hope of a painful but sincere inscription etched into my soul by another.
The hope I will one day murder my inner child.
The hope I can be a carpenter, but not like Yeshua.
The hope of poems scribed in memoriam.
The hope of being witty for just one more day.
The hope that my mitochondria won't go on strike.
The hope that AIDS is a fluke.
The hope that I can die honorably.
The hope that Deepak Chopra will be proven to be full of shit.
The hope that Stephen Hawking will bang another hot nurse before he dies, and drool all over her in the process.
The hope I will help to awaken a sleeping generation.
The hope that TV will become a responsible tool again.
The hope that I won't get 10% more free with my order. Clue: It's not free.
The hope that fuzzy economics can be shorn effectively.
The hope that I can make a fur coat out of the above.
The hope of a an old peace restored, and a new hate quelled.
The hope of sanity.
The hope there is hope at all.
The hope a brain with an kill-switch. click.
I live for:
The hope of a painful but sincere inscription etched into my soul by another.
The hope I will one day murder my inner child.
The hope I can be a carpenter, but not like Yeshua.
The hope of poems scribed in memoriam.
The hope of being witty for just one more day.
The hope that my mitochondria won't go on strike.
The hope that AIDS is a fluke.
The hope that I can die honorably.
The hope that Deepak Chopra will be proven to be full of shit.
The hope that Stephen Hawking will bang another hot nurse before he dies, and drool all over her in the process.
The hope I will help to awaken a sleeping generation.
The hope that TV will become a responsible tool again.
The hope that I won't get 10% more free with my order. Clue: It's not free.
The hope that fuzzy economics can be shorn effectively.
The hope that I can make a fur coat out of the above.
The hope of a an old peace restored, and a new hate quelled.
The hope of sanity.
The hope there is hope at all.
The hope a brain with an kill-switch. click.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
Place
Place you
Place you gently
Place you gently in my sock drawer
To Save or cage, heart-blaze enrage
No parasitic phage, No 12 gauge, no slave
Crawl in with you, time stop...turn the page
Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.
Horseback...don't look back
I'll be here if you come back
On track, stay fast, make your past
Top of your class, I see you, dear lass.
Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.
Place you
Place you gently
Place you gently in my sock drawer
To Save or cage, heart-blaze enrage
No parasitic phage, No 12 gauge, no slave
Crawl in with you, time stop...turn the page
Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.
Horseback...don't look back
I'll be here if you come back
On track, stay fast, make your past
Top of your class, I see you, dear lass.
Fifteen seconds to eternity
quarter minute...my infinity
All my dreams have unfurled
I have all the time in the world.
Monday, August 02, 2004
Love Bomb.
In the past, I had focused on the darker side of relationships. In many of my posts, I had mentioned not feeling anymore, and it becoming too easy to be stoic about loss. Well, apparently, I was way off-base. I recently met someone. Someone very special. I felt feelings that were unlike even my most major relationships. I wanted to crawl into her skin, and set my heart next to hers, that they might beat together. I feel exposed...And not in a bad way. I welcome the feeling. However, I also feel something I am familiar with. The very distinct need to not let her get away. She is amazing. Far more so than anyone I have ever met. I have heard stories about situations like this. Almost fairy-tale-like. That's what concerns me. These raw emotions are stronger than they've ever been. I almost feel like I might smother her, or drive her off. I am drunk on her. I don't blame her for being careful. I am a hopeless romantic from beginning to end. Most times, in regards to romance, I am like gasoline. Flammable. I feel in this case, I am more like Uranium 238. Bomb-grade fissile material. I cannot control the reaction. Not that any of this is a bad thing; Taking risks really is the only way to succeed in life.
In the past, I had focused on the darker side of relationships. In many of my posts, I had mentioned not feeling anymore, and it becoming too easy to be stoic about loss. Well, apparently, I was way off-base. I recently met someone. Someone very special. I felt feelings that were unlike even my most major relationships. I wanted to crawl into her skin, and set my heart next to hers, that they might beat together. I feel exposed...And not in a bad way. I welcome the feeling. However, I also feel something I am familiar with. The very distinct need to not let her get away. She is amazing. Far more so than anyone I have ever met. I have heard stories about situations like this. Almost fairy-tale-like. That's what concerns me. These raw emotions are stronger than they've ever been. I almost feel like I might smother her, or drive her off. I am drunk on her. I don't blame her for being careful. I am a hopeless romantic from beginning to end. Most times, in regards to romance, I am like gasoline. Flammable. I feel in this case, I am more like Uranium 238. Bomb-grade fissile material. I cannot control the reaction. Not that any of this is a bad thing; Taking risks really is the only way to succeed in life.
Breakbeat Heart (Draft 1)
Dusky initiation
Smoke-laden red-light fantasy
Sweetened by butterflies for a breakbeat heart.
Dreaming alive -
Heart-song found rythym in the bosom of another
Subtle movements -
Others' eyes confirm that ancient dance...
gentle musings, flushed faces, stolen kisses
waves of adrenaline cover them like warm caramel
The voyeur customarily recounts their tale...
Tradition as ancient as the dance itself.
Dusky initiation
Smoke-laden red-light fantasy
Sweetened by butterflies for a breakbeat heart.
Dreaming alive -
Heart-song found rythym in the bosom of another
Subtle movements -
Others' eyes confirm that ancient dance...
gentle musings, flushed faces, stolen kisses
waves of adrenaline cover them like warm caramel
The voyeur customarily recounts their tale...
Tradition as ancient as the dance itself.
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Temple of the East, of the Sword
Deep black diaspora
Puritanic lifeblood wrought ancient sainthood
Signet and collar reward with terror
Infidel
Fight on
Come blood, come strife
Truth into Justice, Dominion ill-lit
Zerubabbel, toil unto the dawn
Under trowel and blade,
Unseen eagle overhead
Parchment hastes a styled grace unto the eyes of Cyrus
Persia's truth told unto caustic servants
A temple's foundation rests in the blackness
Divine intention of a will be done
Prophecy pardon'd the king of the lion
Birthright returned, thieve unfounded law
Divine coming light ardent prophet...
Sleeping cornice revealed
Unravel the veil
Prepare His apartments.
Deep black diaspora
Puritanic lifeblood wrought ancient sainthood
Signet and collar reward with terror
Infidel
Fight on
Come blood, come strife
Truth into Justice, Dominion ill-lit
Zerubabbel, toil unto the dawn
Under trowel and blade,
Unseen eagle overhead
Parchment hastes a styled grace unto the eyes of Cyrus
Persia's truth told unto caustic servants
A temple's foundation rests in the blackness
Divine intention of a will be done
Prophecy pardon'd the king of the lion
Birthright returned, thieve unfounded law
Divine coming light ardent prophet...
Sleeping cornice revealed
Unravel the veil
Prepare His apartments.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Love in Lemuria
Croon, O drunken soul
"Chimera deserve damnation"
Careen toward precipice never-ending
Plunging phantasm (l)end-(l)over-(l)end
Ended.
The love not your own
Deserves desire, not (al)one.
Figments fire burn alight
In darkness of some other's nigh(t)
Distaste disgrace
Heartbeat impure
Resounding, pounding,
for the lovely lemure.
Forget fancies
spectres vanquished
lights alive, flame's truth kind(led)
halt haunted hookahs vaporous veils.
and faint treasures never wanted.
I declare, drunken soul,
Spring's teets engorged, remain pained with wanting
Find an-other rabbit hole
your fate's deeper...
and Fall is coming.
Croon, O drunken soul
"Chimera deserve damnation"
Careen toward precipice never-ending
Plunging phantasm (l)end-(l)over-(l)end
Ended.
The love not your own
Deserves desire, not (al)one.
Figments fire burn alight
In darkness of some other's nigh(t)
Distaste disgrace
Heartbeat impure
Resounding, pounding,
for the lovely lemure.
Forget fancies
spectres vanquished
lights alive, flame's truth kind(led)
halt haunted hookahs vaporous veils.
and faint treasures never wanted.
I declare, drunken soul,
Spring's teets engorged, remain pained with wanting
Find an-other rabbit hole
your fate's deeper...
and Fall is coming.
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