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following a coelocanth on a lead weighted line down to where blind eyes shine big
as demitasse saucers beside little nicotine hors d'oeuvres and their pimiento lips
smell in the undersea current zephyrs intimating nearness of cauliflower fields
wax sealed with that red impression of a king's ring signifying brilliantine
highlights wished street lamps were brighter than the dingy daily arraignment
in expectation of a second illogical sixth sense to enforce lawns distorted
bent sideways with an inconsistent chromatic wash browned at the edges

lying lengthwise on a Pullman seat circa the Taj Mahal Thurgood Marshall
dressed in appropriate livery his hand a cast iron frying pan patiently snapping
for my ticket in the bench seat facing three escapees from a De Chirico sketch
eyes orbiting their heads bobbing and weaving in apparent disregard of their parents'
patent lounging in a Bern "in" box waiting on a distracted clerk to ascertain its legal
status pertaining to said inventors' indiscrete gravel sorter here for sand there forthwith
pebbles marbles chunks large enough to result in bumps or subdural hematoma whose move
black threw a rook diagonally leaving our queen and her whites inconvenienced
* * *
Fractalized demons dance electric in the night
Sunflower children armed ready to fight
Look for the universe
You know the one where they live
Deep under toenails and up to our grins

One step, two steps, three hundred more
More and more I want what’s in store
Look at the vision
Hear with your eyes
More and more I know I can fly

The passage of choice
No voice to this age
The passage of dreams
A scream that will fade

Nothing is different
Nothing is same
We are all pixels
A dot in this game

Multiply and divide
Subtraction and division
Today is the day that this can all be envisioned
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I wrote this fully automatically, it just flowed straight onto the page in seconds without any thought whatsoever. I was in psychosis at the time, and I felt my automatic writing was coming from my guiding angel, who was also my soul mate. I asked for a poem and this is what I "was given". It's not strictly a "word salad" style of poem, but it is genuinely automatic:

Life is for living
Not boiling in hate.
So asking the living
Why is there no gate?
Am I living near it?
Is there a way out?
To leave is to live it
And say I have doubt.

My doubt is quite ebbing
And flowing like tides
I ebb till I'm safe
Then I flow till I'm right by your side.

I took my meanings from it differently at various stages of my psychosis and my recovery. It still has meaning to me, and still feels as though it wasn't written by me.

Empty, Stupid, and:
* * *
Knock, knock, knock
Our voices ring in empty vaults.
It is dark, so dark, but echoes flickers flashes hints
what it is and what used to be all of a piece. A little of that old time rock & roll, that
old time religion, that old center of gravity seeking snake oil, sex, and shine.
I'd rather have jazz, have you ever felt the blues, every time I hear that techno-pop.
They all overlap until it's silence and the only song is the
tap, tap, tap of our soles.
* * *
I breathe life into you
written word for cause
open vision for a new time separate from the faults of before
I lived so scared of what could be
from me
from others I care for
to others I was there for
I just want to wake up once and for all
but the process is never ending
and ending is but a way out of this struggle
that no one dares run towards
I thought that the feminine would solve this nightmare
the nights where I sat on self-destruction
but the age of time
brings light to what was always here.

I see complete possibility
the initial thought but a continuous
dream of individual letters
in unison
communion of breath
and life
to fight and rise above the temptations
of fear and self-defeat
and I now sit here with the solution at my feet
what was once an equation of violent rage
has taken the shape of the race of time
and I just want to enjoy the moments

I spoke to you in my dreams
and we cried the day away
cried for you to stay
and flap your pretty wings forever and ever
together we would change this life
our fight
our open angel angle that proved that
we were always there
never where
but here for all to see
nothing to be ashamed of
nothing to focus this anger on any longer
your pretty wings
let your pretty wings lead we on my way.
* * *
* * *
berailed offster patterned noister, unbecoming a chapfallow, strooding or strubbling inumbria muris ceilaballoo overcapped, twhough twhille twoo chir chir chirrst. Up and up and down again, down againster, around againstork petrollsking of edifices or excifices down allpaths of whrouin. Tfying, so brillant werse eyse scrawling and scrimbling, knackered sough refursing or rusing or thrice knotted whiteworshed twilling. Breaded and coddled, twittled and twaddled, and o O O O O O! do you larken my splait so, my! Perking, perking, earged Evevary Ectominum, erratus.

Yet wondered offson, upthrace and upstarted, in pattered noistrum murder nastermum, cloy and cloy. Ubiquit, ubiquit. Ad urbis telloq, unflaxed umbrae or penumbrae. Harald, my ashtree, what words ye bringly thick? Grovesnor, jove, and dash. And dash! Flesh a groin, bleedlines dewn bach, mater pearl, bobbing. Grubber and greatharp, o O not yet again the faceless O, our lady of salivate, persporaraing through thickly thickled thick.
* * *
right-handed man can do no wrong when he swings from the left, a low blow - sneaky, hidden, subterranean digs beneath the scales of skin and burrows down and you become convinced of these memetic mimicries and desires wage war in your chest cage, solemnly the hands part, and whisper turns to silence.

once and firstly when and where, then heavy - now- still heavy. instead of untangling this rivered jungle, ecosystem of regrets, decay, and forgetfulness - it is gone now - it is pure now - it is sweet and life is light now - will it sting to see the end credits slide down like tears, my once-upon-a-winter's-night hand that held mine warm - now let us dream beyond the infantile passions - beyond the clawings for a grain, a drop, a copper penny - fall away now, all you whisperers and torturers - fall away now, sun in sky, Optimism toeing up a ladder - she is ripe for a fall - she is due to cry - and so i whisper - i SCREAM i SCREAM - live down here on these Plain plains, these mellow meadows amongst these stoic flowers nodding neither yay or nay - and then now - i go - to inhabit Sunday day - a quiet and calming cave.
* * *
“Aaron must” said quite spinal will. Aaron wondered. A found room looked. Bring the going. Did you then agree? “Do I?” said rather wanted you. Hah! He always hugged no better eyes . He heard you. “He in all” said I. Hullo! I again charm your mean god. “I had help from you” say the fresh to coming us. In Aaron do the people come. “I saw Josephine, Josephine starting them”, said I. It’s not difference but who was it? “Judas said all and the ill” said Lily. Make do and own Aaron. “No” said Colonel Then. Oh, ah, nay. Robert sang. She and I’ll long. “She fixed the meal. She was so amusing. “Sitting” he said. Sort the alone. Stay in the large. Thank me. The amazement looked. The fact he lost. There Aaron also was. There Aaron put it. There he franks it. The used nodded. They mine and pick the father. Think. Vaguely well today was no power. Walk. “Well!” said returning Lottie and he. We thank and crowd you. “What Chianti should?” cried very black Aaron. What strayed? What would four in Aaron have? Why come? “Why?” cried a trying time and this, but I actually pressed Josephine. Why no Aaron? With Milan was he. “Would we?” said you. Yes. You’ll house him.
Empty, Stupid, and:
* * *
Give a silent thousand. How many in many substitutes never sentence a base? How should it voice rules? Name named aspirates. Proper words marked words. Reading is such a pitch. Select these cents. They select wise Manila. What are consonant organs? What effect first should give the many in the separate uses some other signification? What is aberration ? What is the practiced series? What prefixes under other signification does added Europe in language except? When is called value?
Current Location:
Scotland, still Scotland. (Not Waterloo, LJ)
Empty, Stupid, and:
I Strongly Dislike:
Something calming please.
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