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Because I haven't written a keeper since 7.25.2007 [05 Nov 2007|05:30am]

whiskerfish
Construction

        in it

and limit

the beauty rests

just long enough to be

        considered

fresh pauses, compositions, regained composure

        concentration, contemplation

the matter and sense of being built
(Write )

Because I couldn't not write about it. [23 Apr 2007|12:28pm]

whiskerfish
Strain Displacements

as quickly there as they are gone
the metallic clack like a hammer hitting

at first benign, at first without definition
each instance lacking urgency as it comes and goes

        consider a rod and its initial length
        take into account the stretching of it


nobody flinches, nobody moves at all
as if the unexpected weren’t unexpected at all

and then the sense of what is happening
the sudden realization that something is happening

        the strain measure
        a dimensionless ratio


there is a building, a crescendo almost, like momentum
involvement evolves into reaction, into what do we do now

in this passing there is the chance of being forgotten
there is hope in the prayers sent aloft, there is potential

        defined as the ratio of elongation
        with respect to the original length

the open sky wrung clear by repercussion
thoughts are gathered and dashed, focused and fragmented

in this, as the chaos blossoms, are we judge or judgement
is the moment being defined as it unfolds or do we define it

        to track down the strain at each point
        further refinement in the definition is needed

with the opening of each door is there an hierarchy established
chances grow and diminish, load and unload, exploit the moment

as quickly there as they are gone
each an instance like a hammer hitting


technorati tags:poetry, writing

Blogged with Flock

(Write )

You Are a Cat [30 Sep 2006|05:05pm]
lillianmoya
[ mood | hopeful ]

I am part female
I am part thought
I am part action
Solitary art
A catalogue of sorts
Self-consciousness exerts
in a moment’s account.
She wanted production knowledge
based on intelligence
consideration
generosity
spirituality
and the analytical
Great wars in great ears
on the infantile calendar
The streets get better
past the horizon you think
of nothing else
I’d give everything I have
sometimes based on everything I lack
In color you can hold me
memories in absence scold me
Belief, my personal conviction
under hot lights.

© L. Moya

(Write )

Ergot Outbreaks [12 Sep 2006|02:35am]

apathy_erases
I become like a
phonograph,
playing discs
outside my mind
which I don't have
any control over.
Put on the spindle
by an outside genius;
I see I have no
control over me.

In this
laboratory
I try to find a place
for me to be,
searcing and these
test tubes just
seem to get in
the way.

Dirty tricks of
an intelligence
far beyond our own.
I feel the drip down
my spine, and the
crystals freeze along
my nerves. Again
it begins, I feel
this potential.

The potential
for development
in this field has the
capability of an enemy,
but I find myself
comprehending
everything as easily
as my best friend's
tone of voice.

Super secret units
of very small importance
are shipped and
recieved daily
between those of us
on the underground;
from down low in the
world of sharper sounds.

These dreams just seem
to pass through me, uplift
me and open a whole new
range of sight for me.
Agency gathered intelligence
is transmitted through me,
poppies are leaving and
the pods are breathing.

As the people of interest
in this memo explain, my
department of listening is
expanded again. I have a private
practice of jumping around and I
dance so much better
when these sights are abound.
(Write )

Gator [26 Aug 2006|05:16am]

apathy_erases
[ mood | awake ]

i am up and
leaning for most hitch
i want to get ripped
i fall and then slip
i wonder how it works
and then i just limp

oh i can't sleep
fabulous, i just leave
my soul and my brain
go up and then heave
it's like i'm in heat
blistering and over
over it's going slipping
up and down and slop around

this isn't a lost and found
it's all just a game
i'm jumping up and down
and falling in the space
left in between
hood and my sleep
blanket over me
and my pillow's getting weak

found this in me
explores from within
goes out and jumps around
and falls down again
want to just rest
follow up is just a mess
and going in the circles
of rounds of lesser hex

this is not my hand
my brain is not the same
i fight to suffer age
as i stage the upper land
the chips i see for real
i'm about that deal
that comes once around
and then jumps down

(Write )

The Opinion of those She Served [04 Jul 2006|07:53am]

sarahsmiles
[ mood | bitchy ]

The sacred grove and bubble bath,
a glass of wine and you.
Well, you I can well do without
as one is not too few.
I love you and would keep you near
yet there are times at which
"I just want to be alone now."
I know I'm oft' the bitch.
As languid warmth attacks my ills
and scents deep sooth my soul,
I cannot long survive without this
these moments that I stole.

(Write )

[11 Apr 2006|05:12pm]
withlove_midge
[ mood | anxious ]

this is just a little something to summarize my day yesterday. my school walked outside for five in a half hours to raise money for a charity. over $7000, so it was worth it.


my face is burnt

walking in the sun
is always great fun

you see the trees
and get stung by bees

the sun is bright
and full of might

and that is why
my face is burnt.

(Write | 2 wrote)

[01 Jan 2006|01:56pm]

apathy_erases
i have found that the only relative ideas
are the ones that you don't pull out
just make the pillow fringe and say
get your head off my back

use force to blow out
and use force to hold out
we're in this struggle together they said

my lover is twine
used to wrap my skin
and tie at the end
so as to prevent the unravelling

we're travelling
(Write )

The Cold, Gray Mist [01 Dec 2005|01:17pm]

bohemianbanshee
[ mood | calm ]

clickCollapse )

(Write )

A LOVELY DAY [03 Nov 2005|06:23pm]

trivking_64
A LOVELY DAY
(T. Beechey)

A LOVELY DAYCollapse )
(Write )

SHIT-EATING GRIN [01 Nov 2005|08:59pm]

trivking_64
SHIT-EATING GRIN
(T. Beechey)

SHIT-EATING GRINCollapse )
(Write | 1 wrote)

GLIMPSES WITHIN [30 Sep 2005|02:42am]

trivking_64
GLIMPSES WITHIN
(T. Beechey)

GLIMPSES WITHINCollapse )</lj-cut?
(Write )

THE STILL AUTUMN AIR [28 Sep 2005|03:03am]

trivking_64
THE STILL AUTUMN AIR
(T. Beechey)

THE STILL AUTUMN AIRCollapse )
(Write | 1 wrote)

TIME [26 Sep 2005|03:00pm]

trivking_64
TIME
(T. Beechey)

TIMECollapse )
(Write )

THE GREATEST FEAR [18 Sep 2005|10:18am]

trivking_64
THE GREATEST FEAR
(T. Beechey)

THE GREATEST FEARCollapse )
(Write )

WINDOWS [31 Jul 2005|10:35am]

trivking_64
WINDOWS
(T. Beechey)

From my window,I can see you lost in each other's gazes
In the midst of the hazes brought on by passion's blazes
From your window,can you see me before a shattered mirror
Cause the image which appeared bore a figure that was clearer
Long ago?

From my window,I can see you living out your story
Basking in the glory of never needing to be sorry
From your window,can you see me lost in a sea of doubt
Wondering what life's about in a world now without
Your glow?

Myself in the window no longer bears reflection
While the lines of your shadow point in each direction
Yet I can't turn aside,ever hopeful for a glance
Of the stemming of the tide of romance

From my window,I can see you in the arms of another
Secure in the love for this moment you've discovered
From your window,can you see me with head bent and kneeling
In search of a healing from this overwhelming feeling
Of shame?

From my window,I can see you dancing in the moonlight
Silohuetted in the twilight and everything is all right
From your window,can you see me as my spirit's slowly dulling
With teardrops steadily falling and each one calling
Out your name?
(Write )

FOREVER [30 Jul 2005|04:08am]

trivking_64
FOREVER
(T. Beechey)

Forever exists until memories fade
And the shades are drawn and even then
When just a solitary thought
In time is caught,it begins again

Forever is neither here nor there,
It's everywhere and nowhere at all
Yet,somewhere we fall in the middle
And,little by little,we begin to dull

Till we all become part of forever
Never changing,but seldom the same
Name or circumstance doesn't divide us
For they're inside us to feed the flame

There is no beginning,there is no end
Only chance to mend what's fallen before
As through the door we quickly pass
Into the looking glass of nevermore

Forever exists in a dream selected
From those reflected in sightless eyes
And nothing dies for we're all as one
Just as we've begun until spirits rise
(Write )

LIFESTORMS [22 Jul 2005|03:45am]

trivking_64
LIFESTORMS
(T. Beechey)

As you watch stormclouds gather,do not hide but rather marvel
At the carnival of rapture not to capture but behold
Unfolding by the season without reason,yet a sign
To define our very purpose,it is for us to be told

Yes,the message in the thunder is be one with all around us
While sounds of falling raindrops swaps bad thoughts for good
Should you ever see the lightning,it's inviting all to listen
To the glisten of the rainbow for it knows what no one could

Why we are and who we're being,what we're seeing that's unreal
How to feel as souls are numbing and becoming who we can
To unveil the plan for seeking for the weak and for the moghty
An idea that shall unify the brotherhood of man

It's a concept held by many,but are any truly looking?
Have we took our final glances and are chances now denied?
Don't hide from the forming of stormclouds,they are with us
To deliver us a message we had best not turn aside

And the message in the thunder is be one with all around us
While sounds of falling raindrops swaps bad thoughts for good
Should you ever see the lightning,it's inviting all to listen
To the glisten of the rainbow for it knows what no one could
(Write )

GOODBYE [15 Jul 2005|02:07pm]

trivking_64
GOODBYE
(T. Beechey)

So unworthy of love,way beyond my feeble reaching
It's teaching me a lesson I'm confessing I don't want
The blunt message for me brings stormy overcasting
Lasting till forever --- I never chose to confront

I'm doomed to seclusion,my intrusion is forbidden
Must stay hidden from the masses as time passes by
Reasons why do not matter,all defenses shatter inward
All that's heard and forgotten is an ill-begotten cry

It's my destiny to follow in the hollow misgivings
That living has showed me on this road of endless ends
Where no one spends a second unless beckoned in their youth
Sometimes truth is no answer,just a chance for further bends

Why was I chosen? No one knows,no one questions
Suggestions meekly fall in dull and deafened ears
Still the years keep increasing,never ceasing in climbing
The timing's in rhythm with slim hopes and shedded tears

So,I stay along the course and I force myself to chuckle
While I buckle in and under the sheer wonder of it all
And,as I fall,there is laughter from rafter to valley
I'm a tally on a scoreboard faced toward a barren wall

That's the fate that's awaiting,no sense stating objection
The rejection is as certain as a curtained draw of breath
Whether or not,it is coming --- the humming's now a rumble
Soon I'll tumble pure and simple through the dimpled smile of death
(Write )

[22 Jun 2005|10:18pm]

abraxa
hello, im new. im alisha :)

3.14Collapse )
(Write | 1 wrote)

[28 May 2005|02:14am]

trivking_64
THE THINGS I MEANT TO SAY
(T. Beechey)

Read more...Collapse )

FOREVER INTO THE DISTANT BLUE
(T. Beechey)

Read more...Collapse )

SUNRISE
(T. Beechey)

Read more...Collapse )

SOMEWHERE IT IS WRITTEN
(T. Beechey)

Read more...Collapse )

THE PIPER
(T. Beechey)

Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

True Religion [13 Apr 2005|05:04pm]

bardia
"My religion is not Buddhism;
my religion is loving-kindness."

H.H., the Dalai Lama


As with
'knowing'
and
'understanding,'
religion,
too,
IS
a 'matter'

Not of
'belief'
'faith' or
'ritual,'

"but," rather,
of
experience, of
'practicing'

one's
self-chosen
principled
Path.Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

[12 Apr 2005|12:58am]

bardia
dear absurdistanic_flower:

I do not
wish to be
a weight
you feel
you have to
carry.
drop my weight,
like a rock,
into the
Abyss,
where I have dropped
yours.

better to chant,
and to send each other
Light.
I
do
not (even)
carry any weight (much)Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

[06 Apr 2005|12:19am]

bardia
sitting
outside
balcony
cold
night
strong winds,
prayer-flags
whipping

sending

yellow candle
flickers
remains
burning

trees
bowing
bending
dogs barking,
answering

no clouded
stars
unmoving.

"body agitated

mind serene

sould as limpid as a mountain lake."Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

theatrix [02 Apr 2005|11:22pm]

sarahsmiles
[ mood | black ]

PICT9295couple.jpg

I love hearing people talk about acting or the stage,
for I can never see life as being unacted,
or even unscripted. To say that reality's lines
are unlearned is to ignore a lifetime of practice,
repeated workshopping of role, mannerism,
and rhetorical flourish. Though I will admit
that the playwright is often twice removed,
having left a story for us to play with
scant stage direction, bad costumes,
a plot that takes a lifetime to unravel,
and certainly no satisfying conclusion,
in the end, we're left with such
great potentials for ad-libbing on a whim,
sight-gags, and unexpected soliloquies,
if we're just willing to stop fighting
with the director, and float amid the infinite
nuance that separates this play
from the myriad others unfolding next door.

This is for __nutshell__ and stichodactylida

(Write )

[29 Mar 2005|06:15pm]

bardia
OM
Thank you Sun
Ultimate force of Compassion
You give to all without discrimination
And take from none
You exist out of pure Love
I honor you sun for your light, warmth, ultimate Compassion, absolute Love,
And for my consciousness.
OM
Thank you infinite Universe
For sharing your atoms with me
Your existence is Bliss
Your Cosmic Consciousness is the Great Breath
You are the Primordial essence
You are the ultimate Mystery
Let your Logos guide us
So that we may be one with the flow of the Great Breath
Namaste.
(Write )

[28 Mar 2005|10:44am]

bardia
"IT'S NOT (ALL) 'ABOUT' THINKING/KNOWING,"

A.K.A.,

"YOU DON'T KNOW 'TIL YOU GET THERE"


Hanging-out,
'There,'
beyond the

"Pairs of Opposites,"

pure
seeing ...

'one'
may
come to the 'view' that
some
'thing'
is
'known'
'understood,'

"and",

in a (certain) 'sense,'Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

[04 Mar 2005|10:24am]

bardia
Not ever
Oh, not ever
Will it come
To an end:
The drum of,
The song of
The Giver of
Life.

We come
To the magic water.
Your word
Goes over the water
With the water bird.

Oh, not ever
Not ever
Will it come
To an end:
The drum of,
The song of
The Giver of
Life.

Your flowers, this earth:
Do they go
Like shadows go
When we go
To the Ghost Place?

Oh, not ever
Not ever
Will they come
To an end:
The drum of,
The song of
The Giver of
Life.

The good trees, the old:
Under the branches of,
Among the roots of
The ancient cottonwoods
Will we wake?

Oh, not ever
Not ever
Will it come
To an end:
The drum of,
The song of
The Giver of
Life.
(Write )

[27 Feb 2005|10:09am]

bardia
Hello, my precious lord
so nice to meet you again
here
among the ruins,

having migrated back into the shadow-world of the "Cave"
weaving
navigating
in and out
back and forth
among its prisoners

wonders all,
motives as mixed as their oh so non-pellucid minds
filled with curious intent.

You expect me to function here,
among the blind who think they see,
don't you?

You,
to whom expectations
are merely another
portion of your dream.Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

[17 Feb 2005|11:52pm]

bardia
though
'time'
IS
an 'illusion,'

"if"

I were you
I would
'use'
it ...

"wisely ..."

"for,"
(even)
'illusions'
'have'
their
'seasons' ---
you know,

"and,"
like 'seasons,'
they
'come'
"and"
they

'go.'

the
problem,
"of course,"
with the
'time-illusion'Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

[13 Feb 2005|09:45pm]

bardia
'before'
and 'after'

'here'
and 'there'

'now'
and 'then'

'this'
and 'that'

'you'
and 'me'

'us'
and 'them'

'cause'
and 'effect'

'eternity'

and 'time'Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

"... leaving aside for the moment our own 'selfs' ..." [13 Feb 2005|09:34pm]

bardia
If,
as Plato teaches,
'vision'
consists of 'something'
entering the eye, from 'without,'

and some other 'something'

exiting the eye, from 'within,'

how are we to
'account for'

one's
'vision'
of one's
'self'?

leaving aside the absurd
notion that we 'are'
our physical bodies,

one's 'vision,'

one's 'impression,' of one's 'self'

clearly pertains to what is often referred to as

'the mind's eye.'

the questions are:

what is 'entering' this 'eye'
from within ... anything at all?Read more...Collapse )
(Write )

Hymn for the drowning [11 Feb 2005|07:00pm]

bardia
when
Socrates,
at his 'trial,
was asked:
"Of what state are you
a citizen?,"
he replied:

"I am a citizen of the world."

he was,
as we know,
condemned,
to death,
for

"teaching disbelief in the 'gods,'" and

for

"corrupting the 'morals' of the young" --

A.K.A.,

for encouraging
people to
think --
for themselves.

such
'encouragement,'
it would seem,
is
even more sorely needed
today --
so very many
centuries
later.

we are like show-offy,
superstitious
jingoistic
children,
wielding
sophisticated
death-dealing
toys --
while the duller,
more cowardly among us,
cheer
us
brazenly on ...
... are we not?

is it any
'wonder'
"Jesus" said,
as he hung,
dying:

"Forgive them,
Father,
for they know
not
'what' they
'do'"?

'they'
do
not
still.

our
'enemy'
is never,
in reality,
"the people"
of some other
'country,'

is never
"the people"
of some other
'ism,'
or
'system,'
or
'religion.'

it
is
ever
a mere
'few' ...
in the
'higher echelons'
of same --
primarily unseen --

and unknown,
the 'salaried priests' of

our currupted
'religions,'
the corrupted
'leaders'
within,
and behind,
our much-tauted
'systems'
and
'isms' ...
... all of whom
'see'
"the masses"
as (just) so much

'grist'

for their greedy,
power-hungry,
monetarily-driven
'mills' ...

and we,
the washed,
and unwashed,
"masses,"
both near-at-hand,
and afar,
in our
childish naivette,
look up to,
and follow,
those
who
have little more honest
'regard'
for us --
-- certainly no
'feelings' of
equality --
than for a
fish
they might catch
at one of their esoteric,
'working retreats.'

Buddha
replied,
in answer to the question,

"What are you?" ...
"I am awake."


... "Is there anybody 'out there'?" (Pink Floyd)

Anyone
'awake'?

'sleepers'
become
achingly 'attached,'
to
their
'dreams.'
one 'awakens'
them
at one's own
peril.

Gandhi,
(in 1912),
referred to
"modern civilization"
as
"a great hypnotizing machine..."

... it
is
so
very
much
worse,
now.

who,
if
'I'
may be so bold as to ask,
are the
'hypnotists'?

'what,'
if
'I'
may,
are
'they'?

it
is
(almost)
an unbridgeable
'gap'
between our
'modern-day'
hypnotic
'subject's'
state of consciousness
and that
'state'
which has 'realized' (that):

"If we all knew our true business,
life would be a contest of smiles" ---

is
it
not?

leaving aside
(for the moment) the
self-proclaimed
(pseudo)
'enlightened,'
(numbers growing daily),
'happy'
'blissed-out,'
in their
fuzzy-wuzzy
cloud-cuckoo-land
nothingness,

it
is
necessary for
true Seekers
to avoid both
nihilism and,
equally contemptible,
conscious,
or unconscious,
solipsism.

'other people'
ARE
real ...
... all of them ...
no more,
no less,
then you
are ...
they,
like you,
want
'happiness,'
as H.H. the Dalai Lama
often points out;
they,
like you,
feel,
at times,
the 'burden,'
the 'suffering'
of incarnated
human existence;

they,
like you,
are mortal ...
... and do not,
like you,
know
'when';
they,
like you,
have their 'illusions' --
masquerading,
in their minds and
hearts,
as 'knowing.'

truly,
did Socrates teach (that):

'the cause of most human suffering
is "double-ignorance" -- thinking
one "knows" ... when one does not,'

hence, his other teaching (that):

'awareness of one's (fundamental, ontological)
ignorance is the beginning of wisdom.'

Teachers
are
needed,
not 'gurus,'

not 'celebrities,'

not propogandists

not 'educators,'

not 'trainers,'

not 'instructors.'

"Where
are the
Teachers?
Why do They not
show Themselves?"

Alas,
the ancient (now cliched, as much else)
'maxim'
still applies:

"When the
pupil is
'ready,'
the Teacher
WILL
appear,"
For,

That

IS

the

Law.

thus,
if you,
lonely, sore-footed pilgrim,
have yet
to 'find'
your
Teacher ...
you

are

not

yet

'ready,'
And ...

"readiness is all." ("Shakespeare")

rather than
blindly follow
"the jesters and the fools" (Bob
Dylan),
why not

"Look inward,
thou art
Buddha"?
("The Voice Of The Silence," H.P. Blavatsky)

... for,
'out there' ---
--- truly ---
"nothing
is
'what'
it
seems,
or appears,
to
'be.'"

your
'alarm'
is
going-off --
don't you
'hear'
IT?

the
first
'awakening'
may be a bit 'rude,'
but,
if
you
can
"stay
'with it,'"
the now
dull
horizon will,
gradually,
open ...
"unto the span of
all three worlds."
(ibid.)

wishing
you
"all the very best,"

018

5:48 p.m. = 17 = 8 + 6 = 14 = 5 + "H.T." = 8.


P.S.:

NOT
"God bless the U.S.A.,"

NOT
"Allah bless the Moslem 'Freedom Fighters,'"

NO.

rather ---
"in so far as
there
are any
'blessings,'
may
they
fall
upon
ALL of
US ...
... for peace."

(have you not heard of HUMANITY,
as a whole?)
(Write )

Summer Safari [01 Feb 2005|12:08am]

bardia
African desert desolate,
liberated from the expanse openness,
hellacious sun detrimental to my icy aureole,
come to me wild lunatic monkeys,
elevate me to your heights giraffe,
teach me your animalistic Mystery’s lion,
endless nothingness contrary to the excess pollution of usual space,
walking about shoeless free and connected,
to my inner essence,
to the perennial spirit,
to my hallucinated roots,
in Africa manifested Zen madness of present moment,
free forevermore where I wish we could meet on the astral plane,
but for now I’m with you in the dry solipsism of my minds mental phenomena.
(Write )

Revelation [19 Jan 2005|12:55am]

bardia
Cigarette lit lighting the night with its hypnotic flare,
light ends left with impermanence,
this impermanence illuminates the nature of ancient imperfection,
the primordial impermanence rings eternally in mind,
emptiness and abyss stare back in the Voidness of black,
and I’m left shaken,
contemplating on death,
the truth remains the same,
my life forever changed by this affirmation of ephemerality.
(Write )

Shapoor [16 Jan 2005|11:42pm]

bardia
Raining, Raining, Raining till tomorrow,
flooding the emblem of my aureole,
falling, falling, falling down again,
I don’t believe in anything but me,
everything is everything speaks the smoke to its Muse,
curb your enthusiasm and up your cynicism,
love isn’t logical,
the desperation of the phantom which disperses his idiosyncrasies upon me
burns, burns, burns my inner inspiration.
Who is the phantom but the shadow of I?
Searching for perfection I find the corrosion of I,
awoken when I understood human life is imperfection,
but still I keep on dreaming in search for the impossible.
(Write )

Winter Solstice Solitude [14 Jan 2005|11:33am]

bardia
Winter Solstice Solitude
Life’s greatest wisdom is fortitude,
but raindrops gnaw at the insides of my brain,
freeze freeze freezing my mind,
rain drops and pain rises,
black cold commences and all hope disassociates into the cosmic astronomical black hole.
How do I escape the suffocation of the winter cold?
True solitude is isolation,
real isolation is suffocation,
absolute suffocation leads to alienation,
and alienation is the essence of Me.
(Write )

Actors Aren’t Activists [12 Jan 2005|11:54pm]

bardia
Me I’m no actor I’m an activist,
Self-destructive mental malfunctioning machine.
But yet I still subsist, but why?
Am I coward or fool- or both?
Sometimes I wonder what a revolvers bullet bursting propelled through my arm would feel like,
sometimes I see colors, shapes, things that aren’t there,
my precious memory has been had,
my inner demon speaks to me in my dreams,
but I always forget.
I try to dust off my anxiety’s but they’re rooted deep,
someone once shouted “You Must Change Yourself,”
lethargic conditioning disrupts this frequency,
every word that comes out my mouth sounds like poetry to me,
exhilarated by my mouths energetic motor,
loving words and sounds,
I guess then loving life,
but always in vain.
(Write )

Roach Motel Blues [12 Jan 2005|12:34am]

bardia
Ten thousand sinister roaches summoned,
to better acquaint myself with life’s bitter realities,
the filth, the horror, the midnight melancholy,
misplaced affection misdirected at the abyss.
To what may I ask is my venting outlet?
To where do the ancient imperfections hide?
Penetrating every dimension of my ocean of insanity,
turbulence echoes itself in blue eternity,
I cried when my lizard died, so young, so pure.
Tears of azure tender cleanliness crystallized beneath my eyes.
What witch has cursed me?
Who has cast me unfortunate?
What red eyed and slime blooded ghoul stalks me?
Reveal yourself!
Cast your stones!
Whether roach, cricket, ant, or man,
all are worth a bug- to be stepped on.
(Write )

The Lonesome Bard [11 Jan 2005|09:36am]

bardia
O rage, O nausea, O suffering.
Forsaken me have you?
Contributing to my unholy end,
I once saw such plastic realities. I shunned it.
I showed it my Evil eye.
Alas, when will these winters of hell end,
I wish to separate myself from Myself,
The utter impossibility of such a task tortures me endlessly.
O scandal, O pain, O hate,
relieve me from your monstrous grasp,
set me free to fly in feelings unfelt,
the reassurance of others is unsettling,
“Those who suffer most become most beautiful.”
Such infinitely absurd wisdom.
Such lies, such folly!
Always plagued by doubts,
doubt is my enemy and greatest sin.
(Write )

Mental masturbation [10 Jan 2005|06:02pm]

bardia
The provincial find refuge in the aura of the sophisticated,
always replicating actions never following the beat of their own vision,
never let someone distort your vision,
I have my way and you have yours,
have you seen the path to the devils rose,
everywhere it can be found,
in all and none,
in you my friend in mother and son,
in tall and large in the damned and blessed,
unfortunate is the man who has seen incest,
the devils rose withered infested by the holly hyena,
and I must stop typing cause my keyboard is drenched in Semen.
(Write )

Real eyes [09 Jan 2005|10:17pm]

bardia
Acid eyes seeing desolate dreary dissonance,
immeasurable intensity bubbling off the outer plane of my hidden heart,
contributing to the purple plasticity of the human drama,
every word cautiously reveals an archaic hidden harmony,
in this harmony lay vast heavens of clairvoyant clarity,
my ring holds secrets of otherworldliness,
unifying the duality of consciousness,
a symbol of irrational imagery,
you are most you when I see you hate,
your inner witch sprawls out identifying with itself in drunken rage,
open me up to only find out that there is no I,
who are you the observer or the observed?
Ask yourself that question three times over,
then once the transcendence of revelation goes black,
realize that you never saw with your real eyes.
(Write )

The insight of the Ancients [08 Jan 2005|11:32pm]

bardia
Spontaneous infiltration of my core capacities always leading back to annihilation,
death, destruction, and the eternal reconstruction of all events,
if only I could fly beyond time,
to speed in the splendor of colors rapped up in each other,
to move beyond language to see with pure perception,
seeing everything everywhere interconnected,
sympathy for all sentient beings liberates you of your own hatred for yourself,
if only we could learn to be a friend to ourselves,
then we would be friends to all humanity,
you cant cry when you encounter the mediocre masses,
do not be odious but ridiculous,
emulate Democritus rather than Heraclitus,
Heraclitus wept whenever he went out in public,
Democritus laughed,
one looked at all our behavior with pity the other just thought it silly.
(Write )

Do I affirm your life? [07 Jan 2005|11:42am]

bardia
Your so called stark reality is starting to sound strident,
why not get lost in contemplation of the unconscious unreality,
lucid dreaming searching for the key in the maze of my grey matter,
my friends tell me they have to be “mentally ready” for me,
the speed of my brain bombards them and brain cant process,
this probably explains why I crash every other week,
my brain hasn’t learned how to calm down its own thoughts,
better to think a lot then not think at all,
better to speak my music then create a reflection of it,
better to hear you and see you as you don’t want to be seen but are,
there I go again,
always getting lost in my own intellectual elitism,
every word is a conviction,
but I question,
I do not have the power of truth,
I have the power of forgiveness,
Nietzsche said convictions are a very popular error,
that Germanic god and beast said attack your convictions,
he just relayed ancient Socratic known knowledge,
what is there left to fight for but the long lost gift of genius,
me I want a reason to wake up at 5:30 a.m.,
me I sleep in half past twelve,
me I even nullify my life twice taking naps at noon,
inspire me someone,
no not with your deceitful good looks and ever changing charm,
inspire me by showing me that I exist,
inspire me by getting the music that is me.
(Write )

The herb speaks! [06 Jan 2005|04:47pm]

bardia
The complexity of life overwhelms me by its chaotic vagueness,
overloading my already confused conscious,
adding fuel to the fire of the depths of my own person hell,
my inner devil,
but just earlier today I touched the heights of spirituality,
"A Love Supreme" danced my spirit and elevated my soul,
fortune shined upon me a desperately long awaited peak experience,
I felt the height feeling of spiritual ecstatic rapture,
you heavenly and otherworldly sound that is playing at the gates of heaven,
you helped me tap my spiritual source,
and I thank you.
(Write )

Will you be my oxygen mask? [05 Jan 2005|07:26pm]

bardia
Where have the minds of my generation gone,
why have they ceased to be,
have the mysteries of the universe vanished,
is all absolute,
has science taken the place of imagination,
has creativity been violently raped from our intellects,
whatever happened to intellectual curiosity and integrity,
who am I to cultivate the life of the mind with when my hole generation rejects the mind?
Ginsberg and Kerouac would be turning in their graves,
life’s labors lost oh what have we learned from our forefathers,
nothing,
we are drenched drowning in a sea of confusion,
I do not apologize for my generations turning-off,
their lack of worth deserves no apologetic manifesto,
what reality have all the philosophers and artists penetrated,
I want to go there,
hey you yeah you turn off your TV,
turn of your music,
turn off all your distractions and destroy your conditioned escapist behavior,
but above all turn back on your mind,
and join me in the inner revolution I am initiating,
so when one day we shall meet you will have something to give me and I you,
let us cultivate each other and grow and develop in our relationships,
let our relationships move beyond mere entertainment and move on into the realm of the sacred,
I demand you yeah you again you thought you could escape my wrath,
I demand you to learn something so that we can inspire and motivate each other,
are else how will we ever know the ecstasies of the highest friendship the highest love?
(Write )

Paolo [05 Jan 2005|01:46am]

bardia
I close my eyes to only realize that I'm awake from my dream,
from what stars have we fallen to meet each other here?
no longer sleep walking through waking life,
awaken from my modern day trance to view a vision of loveliness,
Paolo explosive inevitable,
those endless enigmatic abysmal emerald green eyes,
beauty personified,
eternal Amazonian dazzling black hair,
that exotic goddess look materialized,
Aphrodite rare resemblance,
the doors of perception would have to be cleansed so that Mind at Large
could be used to see you as you truly are: Infinite,
Paolo the flower of life,
to be put under your spell is to experience ecstasy,
chance encounter glancing at you beamy eyelids over in dark dismay,
your Dionysian essence equals the exact representation of elegant allure,
blown away by your naked pure appearance,
thank god that sacred Costa Rica for your existence,
modern day walking artistic absolute form of eternal perfection,
to view you is the process of moving from the darkness of the cave
into the light.
(Write )

The Herb Dangerous [04 Jan 2005|02:10am]

bardia
Consumed intoxicant cocktail sauce,
green tea eyes senses slowly lost,
sensory derangement Herb Dangerous communicably contagious,
relayed thoughts connecting poetically like “Faust”,
Buddha's bliss and visions of Samadhi,
doors of perception mingled reminiscent of Huxley,
chaos is the game the unknown is the name,
Superego lifted reality shifted.
(Write )

Minds madness manifested [03 Jan 2005|06:38pm]

bardia
Man's self-imposed mind-forg'd manacle manifested reducing his own
minds machinery to hysterical rants of Beatnik blacksploitation
buffoonery,
through Kerouac's whacked out catholic interpretation of art,
we learned to destroy this entire notion of oneself to surpass the continuum
of this all-consuming perennial monotony,
house all your abstractions to set forth the coherence of this
perpetual mystery and magic,
I command this creature to alienate himself from every facet of this dream,
learn to break threw the seams that hold together the mask of your persona,
all along never knowing that life is a journey and thus irretrievable,
falsified by the utmost uncertainty of subsisting in the cracks of
time immemorial,
darkened by the ambiguity and lack of clarity,
the comfort will never be comfortable for the nonconformist neophyte
yet he must still examine the unexamined to bring forth a lamp where
there is no light,
to rupture the spell of the mindless excess of our nations animalistic
existence,
to free ourselves from the intensity of the day to day
we must repress the tyranny of the moment,
this was a journey.
(Write )

Ramblings of a midnight man [03 Jan 2005|01:27am]

bardia
Pistol packed profundity ready and able to explode the cerebral extension,
multifarious spontaneous dangerous verbal kinetics,
rhythmic alpha-male raw
differentiated-like genetics,
all I have to give is my confusion,
all I have to receive is your agitation,
peak into the wild naked wilderness-like labyrinth of my mind,
only to find the eternal enigma immense and absolute thriving in its own complexity,
replenishing its own energies by creating its own remedies,
my psychotherapist says I lack discipline,
innate in my essence is the inertia of this species evanescent existence,
if only this life was amaranthine
that beautifully deep reddish purple purplish red resemblance,
our generation is plagued by that lingering feeling of loss,
we are lost simply because art is dead,
the flower of life has grown decadent and decrepit,
who can save us now that art is dead?
(Write | 1 wrote)

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