- Collective Writing -

Day to Day, we roll through the hills.
Constantly Awaking, hiking, then descending to slumber.
Rising, Falling, Rising and Falling. Day to Day.

Birth to Death, from the flatlands to the mountain top.
The pace quickens, the incline steepens.
exponentially vitalizing. Birth to Death.

 

f

 

I got struck with a word flow


The swirling sphere of creation
blue indigo purple
gentle in motion calm and tranquil
but the seed of creation rests in unease
a birth is necessary the whole universe knows
pain and guilt the strands and fibers to be torn
torn from the misery of the past
bleeding away from the misery of the past
to create on the new shore

spiralling, funneling, vortex up the cortex
trailing sinuous fibrous muscle
tearing to open the new
sharp, neon and electric
glowing green and red, the birth of energy
structured and geometric up the side
no end at the top, only will
no opening at the end, only will
no structure, no belief, only will

the neon electric merry go around of existence
spiralling around the origin of the seed of creation
pushing up through the will of the new birth
so much pain so much struggle, only to have it occur
when you stop paying attention

the new plane the new dimension
more complex, more incomprehensible than the old
expanding the torn sinuous threads
bleeding into the new dimension
the blood alters the structure of manifestation
the blood of the past ends the blood of the new
drying and hardening to hold firm in place the understanding
that creation comes from the center, comes from the still
all our energy first rested in the unmanifested black
the light is an extension of the black
black our source, divine, in open creation

 

We Heard the Beginning

I remember, when we left, so early! and went
Over the Sun, and we found a river behind it?
And together we dipped our bare feet
Under, but puffy flowers kept them dry,
Soft touching like cotton like furry why they grow
from beneath the ripples like that? I mean,
How they grow, not why, just below surface
tension warping, had me clutching my coat
Again my zipper broke off and pieces
Bounce all over the tiles here and there
cats and marbles and bugs that wont bite
Hand in hand we learned to accept
Nature’s reasons for giving and taking
By remembering the first time this
All happened. I recall wondering just how
Long we had been behind our Sun, hiding, I was
Afraid that it was a long long time, like that
We left time behind and it was starting over?
It felt, a perpetual déjà vu, a loop de loop spinning
Faster to a center. But how can we keep
crashing into each other forever? It’s so weird..
Energy started just then to leak out of our pours
Roots of our mind as tangled, confused; lifting out
Of the soil spreading open blooming reaching for Life
Laughing profound wow! What better sustenance?
What warmer nutrient, what warm orange fruit punch?
They gave juice boxes to us that morning
My juice box was grape, yum yum, but I think,
I went somewhere…I had hoped Id know why, breathing
To exhale feels like you prepare your whole life for
That to come but when it came I didn’t
I couldn’t… think… of anything to say.
My head started to hurt and, and noises pushed
Into me pushed then pulled pulling squeezing and God
Broke out like burning skin or acne into eyes array
Mouths. And bellies hearts, and ears all,
Smiling at us from everywhere. Nervous, feeling at
the instant, afraid, I needed to talk, to talk to someone
And maybe they could hug me? I was desperate for
the dirt, for the soil, again to drown,
to turn off the faucet after brushing my teeth.
Luke warm flowing inside matter guiding it
Is energy, Is it, it is looking back at us but not just
A reflection, I fear, it loves but it burns,
Suffocating me with a point of view on my
Way back to the carpet and *!!! JUST !!!* as I stopped breathing,
Strangled into submission, choking on vomit hairy
bleeding the throat ancient ghost vapor who roam the bridges,
it showed me, it reminded me, it woke up to..., it
Communicated a message to you and I simultaneously
On those cement steps, I know we both heard it,, too
in our own personal_impersonal languages that
In the end there is only me
And there is only you
And before it all danced forth, we are.

 

o

 

so i says to the guy 'listen here bucko my wife dont take no cocks but mine'
he said 'nigga shut the fuck up' and blew my head off
his cock still in my wifes ass and her digging the fuck out of it
(she never let me in there)

 

Brillant

 

n

 

its not so much that it'll be ok, but that ok will be

 

and dog spelled backwards is god

1=1

same difference

 

i was agreeing you divine jerk

 

haha sorry.
I like to stir up the proverbial pot every now and then to see if anything new comes up.
Or so I've been accused... :cheers2:

 

yeah you do, and i hope you never stop

someones gotta stir that pot!

 

face mashers. magnets. cash in to continue.
culprit. magnified face. evaporating apparitions; the ghostly gamblers.
"throw the dice yo, throw the dice!"

i'm shooting through the windshield, mixers.
getting my grave sighted by pick-axe stone throws,
to pile up and penetrate said skeleton.
who can't speak anymore?

electric noosing cowboys? each all-in prefers
someone drowning, who can't swim.
thrown life jackets? [they'll break the fisherman's law.]

black pops, more gyrating less levitating;
gas up the trolley, let the farmers ring the bell dawg;

"round one, round 1"

 

Spinning spools of thread of light,
make it known, the sun will arrive.
You and I are formed to the road
less traveled on, where fresh grass has grown.

Birds at the window, sitting on sills as the
sun doth shine, like waiting in line.


Serendipity sings over a war-stricken land of men,
where no man will win.


Oh, no man will win, let us transcend.

One who seeks to shatter time's
own clock ticks, the rhythm inside.
Birth of a mother, two mirrors
reflect as they meet face to face,

Exponential Decay.

"Mary, she loved me," a woman who
sat near a creek once cried;
She carried such pride.
Her mind was still racing, she
tore down the wall and was free to
proclaim that love had no shame.

Oh, no man will win, let us transcend.

 

,,

 

but Nemo spelled backwards is Omen ...big difference.

 

:cheers2:.....Great anaology

 

face two unleashes itself, sensitized;
check the black, purple, and blue
as goblins de-centralize; a lullaby for you.
picking-choosing-claws, always breaking through.
sweet serenades by a lady in lace; smoking in a cloud.
waiting is a man, raking the beach with his hands...
erasing the land; we see him raising his hand.

on the fly a man bathing on the side has been rained on by some cloud nine.
and the zombie parade that's stripping your face; causes the ocean to run blood red,
is grabbing you in 'cause they're facing; "for the wind"

everyone turns red.

she's sharing her smoke and thinks we don't notice;
she can boast and leave half a red-coat.