- Collective Writing -

- Capsulated Embryonic Medicine -
OM TAT SAT
Life is like a movie
strange as it may seem
material substance is the show
empty space is the screen

All genres are our moods
illumined saints the director
atomic structure is the film
and God is the projector

But who then, is the Holy Spirit
the Om, the Tao, the Way?
The light, between Us & Them
which puts us on display

Certain souls who practice yoga
unattached to the maya screen
sitting in the audience
talk about their favorite scence :
Row row row your boat
gently down the stream
merrily merrily merrily merrily
life is but a dream

 

- When The Flowers Decayed -
Sitting on the broken curb
like we always used to
O Bright Eyes Child
where did the time go?
Memories like splintered sunlite
penetrate the empty void
obscured by rain clouds
my fluid conciousness
remember when I plucked the
Desert Rose from sand?
you stood out like a city
she moves me
like a freight train
something stirring under silence
emotions are make believe
such as a rabbit with horns
feeling grew but a source sour
what go up and then fall down
melancholy stings my bones
sitting on the broken curb
like we always used to
the Sun burned out and now its cold
Love once bloomed but even that got old

 

- 2nd-Nature (L.S.E. v.1) -
Om Tat Sat
{Om Shanti - thumping aural reverb heart chakra resound}
Pressure Point : Boiling tension between Man & God
causation remix combination of empty space with
perceived physical phenomena at the heart of
the atomic matter Results? Results?
Field of vision, screen of digital perception
reveals an inherent Truth : *
*The myriad universes, life, be-ing, existance
itself, is a result of thought. We are a
dream that God is having.
The middle focal point of divine pulsation sends
forth wave upon wave bubbling molecules relaying
harmonic frequencies of our ancient genetic
maps, self-replicating organic bio germ parasite
sun-starved bacteria, willed to be + in over-
heated dilute soup known as foaming oceans.
DULAITY...
And where do we come from?
As two folded hands locked in prayer
come apart, as female legs spread wide
in order to give birth, so reality
splits in half (if you know how to look).
Fermenting chemi scheme fluid chants
synchronized, our Cosmic Conducter has us played
out in macrocosmic symphony. Open your ears

 

- 2nd-nature (L.S.E. v.2) - the Macrocosmic Dream -
In the eye's of existance, on the grand scale of most
cosmic proportions (of which in this state, there is in
actuality, no method of organized measurement) what
is the counted out time rate of what is perceived to
be physical matter?
Time lapsed and trailing spinning off into eternity we
are lost in the moment, dazed and longing for change.
How can you tell that what you know and see and feel
and hear to be real, is really really REAL?!
Wake up, you are not even dreaming, you are being
dreamed. Tune into harmonic overgrowth from your
medulla oblongota, this is your very own radio unit and
it picks up frequencies of the most high vibration.
Life is vibration, a continuation of the singularity of the
trinity of of creation, sustainment, and destruction of
God's principles. Om Shanti shanti. Matter can and is
and has been created by pure, unfiltered sound.
And lost in the trance of dances, our bodies carry
out the waves.
Melody pouring in from spilling out over the tree line
forest magic wonder, the fairy folk dance on the hill.
Bubbles of sound burst all around you as you forever
gaze on the shadow of tomorrow. Time breaks down
into units of repetition, and if you are ever caught in
the moment of the breaking down of the unnatural
elemental notion of it, let yourself go. Because it hurts,
mentally and physically, to allow the concept to spiral
out of control, out of reach and beyond your grasp.
When it's all over, I find myself only desiring to look at
least, just one more time, into your eyes. The depth
perception if frightening, but I guess that's the way it's
supposed to be. On and on and on and on forever and
ever and never stopping, this pulse, heart beat of the
cosmos. She flew in on a solar wind, in cosmic breeze
and dust clouds, nebulae gaseous atmosphere found
the silly compound that forces us to smile

 

- Summer -
(From my second to last day in jail)
I find beauty in strange places and
inspiration comes from observing dull and idle movement
pushing forward through the crowd, raising my hand
screaming for them Please Wait! Please! but I dont think they
hear me. So I wont be there with you, sorry Hey at least I
Tried! But again I find myseld on the floor, there are
no windows here and they NEVER tell us what time it is. And
dont even ask about the food, or the toilet. I wouldnt have
really cared, if I did care at all I dont remember, but
the problem was that all of my time spent thinking was spent
wondering if you are OK, I know your not but it doesnt hurt to lie
a little bit does it? Im ok, trust me, I've been in much
worse situations before, this one is nothing. Although
I do miss the sunlite, and smoke, and eating, and playing with
the baby, and playing music, and sex, and beer.
But only so much. I also kind of like it here, too, I am starting
to find it not only normal, but quite funny. You should
hear the opinions we have, I would LOVE to share them with
you, but then again you never understood my sense of
humor anyway.

 

- Islamic Happy Melted Power Hour -
A dark haired girl with a veil abover her eyes
With lime coloured circles dangling at the sides
and beads and jems and crystal shards
wrapped around her naked arms
"Sillly boy, pocket hand in gland,
I am your Princess from Pakistan"
under her cloak let out her hand
gained her sandal grip on sand
clutched the trigger and squeezed
let bullets flow like a breeze of bees
into my chest as I bent my knees
and hit the ground smiling
in my mind I was dialling
a number for poison control
but to no avail as I was told
"Dont live young and dont die old
cross me though you be bold"
I ate some dirt
and it stuck in my teeth
I swam to the bottom
but it was too deep.

 

If color were the reason
and expression the answer
the mind would season
and the soul would live forever
the wind yet absolute, now dead
she only speaks in black and red.

 

Beautiful! Especially the last two sentences. Thank you for sharing lou. Do you have any more?

 

your poetry makes me laugh, it reminds me, it sounds familiar, it flows perfectly even when it doesn't. it makes me think deep, it takes me to that temple where all there is is tao. I love it...I just read them all. Sutra, man.
Seems like poetry is dying...I read your stuff and know it's not. You're definitely one of my favorite poets...I don't know why I can't find this stuff on the shelves. The beats would have loved this shit!
These visions are so vivid, I feel as if I've met you before. I love the voice that emerges from the words. I'm so glad I met you here, on this server.
What an art...to lack articulation and sentences
and just plant seeds sprouting civilizations.
I appreciate this thread so much. I love words...I love people who can move words around into the shapes of the universe...

godspeed

 

Yea dude ive been writing this stuff for years. Glad you appreciate it. ill be sure to keep it coming.

 

The feeling is definitley mutual my friend. Thank you so very much for your kynd words here, and for your poetry that you chose to share. I wonder too, why poets such as you and I, and many of the members who have posted in this thread, are keeping this to ourselves? But I guess it's all relative.
I believe that our collective poetry in this thread alone, is far better than the entirety of the poetry section of this forum where there are thousands of them, updated everyday. And I dont think we are even all writing cliched acid babble, there are very diverse and beautiful little adventures of exploring and discovery with our language in this tiny thread.
Hopefully we are keeping this side of our style of art alive, hopefully we are not a dying breed!
God bless, Namaste, Om Nahma Shivai!

 

Which reminds me...
Someday I will publish a book of my art and poetry,
but I feel as if I don't have enough material yet.

I'm going to dig thru my stuff right now and see if there's anything else I can post.

P.s. Lou I liked your poem a lot, too. Definitely post some more

 

Run, just a little faster
all cards dealt, liquidity didn't last her
what good is wealth if it can't buy laughter?
you convinced her you didn't exist
and hid away your latest trick
but soon her children will not resist.

My take on fractional reserve banking..

 

Please do! My eyes are starving and my mind has plenty of wiggle room
I like this idea though, maybe I should do the same, or at least start keeping a collection of my own poetry? It's a shame, I've written like hundreds of poems, and tons of short stories, but all that is written down now are whats posted in this thread, and perhaps I think like 4 or 5 others that I could dig up. I've lost everything due to moving 6 times in just over a year and being irresponsible with keeping track of my papers.

 

like spiders casting webs between trichocereus bridgesii
some sunlight fills your cornea.
cists of Lyri
blip pop y hear me
knot these sounds
out of context
and causing rings to foam around you
twirl and whirl and
slowly find your center
in you
are me
and everything we see
multiplies.
This includes evils,
not a cloud or a snake.
Carry nothing with you.

​

Ignite the medicine. ​

 

Ah, you are like an alchemist with linguistic logistics

 

Midnight magic,
the wave rolls back.
Velociraptors steal my tractor beams
react.
along the river
we shiver, eggless in
our past slowconvulsions.
whipped by wind;
to dance a plank into new morning
golden pink halos and thin air.
balancing on a log
I tiptoe through the forest
with my heart set on a frog.
Have you seen Bufo? She's a Toad? Oh okay . .
A new day. That's what this is all about.
I'd like to offer you an LFO, it has many knobs
and buttons:​

 

- Blu Button -

Red noses and his face was redder than mine
Since the wind never seems to let it up when the air is by the river
And the frustration bubbling where the tension line may snap at
Any moment, maybe this one, maybe this one
Maybe not so keep moving around the back of your trailer nothing
To see here people just what do you really want anyway?
Where is aisle 5 I never been here man? That way, to the back left
It is what you want, or do you need it? Not really, I guess, I
Wont really miss it but he might. Jesus that must be uncomfortable!
Grab it, shut the door. Never mind it, doors tend to shut themselves
These days just like tension lines snap themselves
No outside force is apparently necessary for this device ha ha! I
Figured something out on my own for once! But
That's never enough for them is it?
"….the blue button you waste of life." I don't see any fucking
Blue button!!!
Oh, that's why! Ha ha it's a square –
No, no, that's backwards, put it down! Ok were back on
Track not quite on point but they always fall below my girls anyway. Glance
To the farthest possible decimal dot but its blocked something is
In my way I just want to thank Allah for His patience of course
That isn't going to happen because this is never my day
Always the laughter though it's not quite all that funny is it
What I think it is? Why would I park out front of a police station? I
Guess these things have to happen every couple of years I mean
After all it keeps the balance off which is good when your measuring in
Units of cosmic waves and upside down circuit boards
So yea, lets get this shit started
Turn it over babe come on you know I love it again and again
I cant believe we are that wet and there is ice under my feet
Asshole!!! Eh, whatever he'll get what's coming to her
Light that and breathe in breathe
Out the smoke its over, please sit back relax and shift the gears.

 

- Booze -

My face. Hmmmmm.... I used to know it
a long time ago, before it was beaten up so
badly with the stones of lies and the
sticks of insecurity
But no time to get to know myself, so
I find myself once again racing through the
streets of center city, always racing and never with enough
time to stop and really let the beauty sink in like
too many commercials
but always enough time for the ugly.
The faces that stare and distort, are they wanting
something from me? I cant tell you
but I can tell you about me stumbling out of there,
seems like everywhere I park is worth a ticket. Just
throw it in the pile, someday someday..
Racing again, always racing, never enough time
to pick up on the love like
too many paintings.
only the hate. Did I meet someone last night?
A girl?
a boy?!
No, no, the bed was empty when I left, Im sure of that.
The enviorment growing around me, rising above
me and laughing and making me smaller
is so done, they dont know how little time they have left
but I have a general idea
man just writing this is starting to make me feel
sick and my stomach is nauseas
my socks are soaked and stuck to my shoes and
my hair is a mess, I need to shave and take
a shower cleanses the mind and the body
rid oneself of the day before and embrace the moment
the rest of it is simply a massive blur of bright lites and dark
skies, no dinner for me and more booze and blues forget
practicing today maybe tomorrow will
be the day I have been waiting for but I know thats another
lie, I will find myself alone, chasing the setting sun of a distant
past I used to love, and a distant future I may never know.
This is not a story, really, my friends but rather an account
of my rediculous self pity, laziness, and shallow ego sinking in
a deep boozy pool. one day connects to another, today is the shadow
of tomorrow
and tomorrow is the present future
of yesterday.
we are all wasting
time.​

 

[timetravel]n.y.c.; beaver top hats tall enough to hold a thousand petals and suspended halographic thoughts of niggers, you peer above your bifocal lenses.
The Irish are here. Their ships groan auraticly creaking slow salutations to the moon in fog slow motion

zooming out on a knife fight.
Ghettos as pixelated birds eye view
soapboxes and taverns.
Bowery flowerly firey stew Remains
Atlantic blood cover it with blacktop.
1849 not too long ago huh?
Curl twirling whores Hi I'm paid to erect, they assemble.
Coffins bobbing like cereal in the Ghoul. Put a slab of beef on it
YOU FUCK

​