Bacon

Egg! lol. I love Mr. Bungle.

thankee-sai, all.

eMBeMLaHV!

 

I.
The manner in which
the sunlight refracts,
and reflects about
this atmospheric chill,
reminds me that
every promise is hollow,
lest it be fulfilled.

II.
Flowing the intoxicated impulse;
How (W)hol(l)y(,) LIFE is mine.

I did not come here to escape.
There is no here or there; only

becoming.​

Their prison is built not with this joy.​

What they ask for, they get:​

A Loathsome World.​

With the excrement of their folly​

I fertilize the pantomorphic ​

evolution of reality. ​

My harvest will be not; so bitter.​

NOT, bitter like the fermented grape​

from which wine ecstatic is culled. ​

Not bitter like the taste of dirt​

in the mouth of the supplicant.​

I aspire to nothing, becoming. ​

INCARNATE THIS EMPTINESS!​

"I'm so enlightened by every corner of this box I chose to live in..."​

-Apartment 26, Axel Off​

​

III.​

Prison or Playground?​

Reincarnation is a silly word, ​

for any lapse between incarnations​

would it self be an incarnation.​

Heaven is Hell; Hell is Heaven.​

When we awaken to the possibility of Self,​

we realize that the Prison we had imagined​

to be the work of some oppressor​

is the Playground we have imagined ​

for our selves. ​

"Awaken in a weblike Hell. ​

How did I reach this place?​

Why are they haunting me? ​

I cannot look at God's face."​

-Slayer, Divine Intervention​

 

[The manner in which
the sunlight refracts,
and reflects about
this atmospheric chill,
reminds me that
every promise is hollow,
lest it be fulfilled.]

Wowzers...that melted me! I'll linger on this thought for awhile, damn close to comfort.

 

​

​

That's one impressive opening, Osiris! This is as near a perfected piece as one can ask for... terrifically terrific! Sorry for the lack of words, but yeah, this one got me thinkin; so thx! ​

​

​

 

26 years to this day, a Man was born, but a babe from the womb of his Mother. He grew to possess a startling intellect, and great physical prowess. He is a Man of unsurpassed benevolence. He is extremely... ahem... well-endowed. To this Man I say Happy Birthday.

I wonder is he'd say the same to me?

"One can only stay desolate for so long until one starts to change into something the mirror doesn't recognize."
-Atreyu, The Crimson

The Pelican
Evolving, as usual.

Didn't think
it would be
this difficult.

Knew it
would be
this simple.

Clutching my stomach
whilst vomiting forth
these eloquent blasphemies
into the mouth
of collective mind.

To The Critics
The Attacking Mind recieves nothing!
Still the Attacking Mind!

Recieve unto Burning Heart
With Ardor incommensurable!

Then Transmit! Transmit! Transmit!

To be the process -----
and Not, its result.
To be the Organ of Life ---
and not the mere excrement

of death.

I could fashion upon a plate of china
Piles of Dogshit in a palatable shape
And you would devour it with a smile.

Yet if I offered you Ambrosia, the
very Draught of Ecstacy, in a styrofoam
cup, you would push it aside in disgust.

 

Sorry I didn't stick around with ya'll tonight and comment on some of your works, but it was my B-day today, and I was out with my ma. Gotta be passing on to my slumber, as I stayed up with my dear child into the twilight and am now beat. Another year earned!

eMBemLaHV!

 

Dang, ya and Fulmah share bdays. Coolness. Hope it was a happy one. We Archers Rock.

Bang bang.

 

Love is not a debt to be honored,
but a moment to be cherished.

 

The Caterpillar​

Should not Become​

A Butterfly​

Lest it cacoon​

It Self​

Against the perceptions​

Of the Caterpillar.​

In such wise​

has Nature​

revealed to us​

a method.​

Yet look not​

Over long​

Upon this!​

For to thee​

was given​

this gift:​

Other ​

Things​

To​

Behold!​

 

...With Which To Mold a Temple;
It's So Very Simple!

I.​

I saw the Devil had a halo.​

I saw the Temple was in Ruins.​

I saw the Playground yet remained,​

And I heard the Children laughing.​

I knew then​

I had finally​

found what I​

had sought for​

so very long;​

that which had​

been obscured by​

this Memorial​

to our Sorrow. ​

And I was undisturbed ​

When the Children did not​

Beckon a welcoming gesture therefrom. ​

For I found my Self,​

already among them,​

laughing.​

II.​

This is a Golden opportunity to Die---​

Cradled in the bosom of a big blue sky.​

We don't exist; but somehow we're alive.​

Destruction sustains; Creation thrives. ​

So don't lie to me, this misery is your dis ease,​

And it's tellng me that we could be more than we seem.​

III.​

It's All The Same To Me.​

Just a bed of roses​

in a pile of shit.​

Too late to start over​

Is too early to quit.​

It's All! The Same! To Me!​

Roses have thorns​

and Shit stinks.​

The blood in the mud​

is the love of the dove.​

It's! All The Same To! Me!​

 

I.​

The Metaphilosophimystical Emanation​

Is the Spirit of the Fountain of the Living Waters.​

To Transcend Love, Knowledge, Self and God,​

One must be(come) all of these Things. ​

One Must Go! Let One Go!​

Through experience of many does One exceed,​

to Go Beyond even It Self, ever-whirling ​

In the Viscous Ether and Making Waves, Tidal,​

Cataclysmic, so as to Birth the Light Combustible,​

Spawning, in the Wake of Intersecting Beams, Many-and-many-uh​

Universe.​

II.​

I am One with Infinite Space​

By Virtue of my Manifestation therein.​

I am the Spirit of the Fire of Unity Made Perfect.​

III.​

If ye would but realize​

that Words are Windows​

ye might see beyond them.​

 

Silly Fakirs!​

Thinking,​

That they must,​

Abdocate​

Their Lives​

In Order to​

Exist.​

Silly Fakirs!​

A Sideshow​

Of Interest,​

NoneTheLess.​

To Gouge​

And Tear​

The Flesh!​

Silly Fakirs!​

 

-Mutherfakir- Bwahaha too good.

*applause*

 

"I Feel Nothing.
I Am Nothing.
I Feel Nothing.
Nothing."
-Fear Factory, Descent

Need I Cherish, this moment?

Has it already passed?

What will I do,
Now that it is gone?

I Will pour my Self another.

Thank You Very Much.

(enter Unequivicos)

Unequivicos: What the hell are you doing?!?

Just having a drink,
With my Holy Guardian Angel.

(Time passes...)

Fuck, I Need Glasses!

I swear eye can feel my I
squeaking in the socket,
as I try to wrench it free.

I CAN SEE! I CAN SEE!

that my vision is blurry.

What Divine Ecstacy
Hath Wrought This Upon Me?

Splendour shows No Remorse;
Nor does a Lightning Bolt.

Therefore
Doth the Path of Least Resistance
get Hit the Hardest.

Death fertilizes the fields of BABALON.

Eye am unencumbered by Sorrow.

Blazing,

 

I Love Thee, Divine Ecstacy!

The Blessings! The Blessings! The Blessings

Thou Hath Bestowed Upon Me!

Have Another! Have Another! Have Another!

BELCH

The Chef is pleased.

FUCK YEAH!

(...at which point the obnoxious reprobate stood. He stood I tell you, though he was far from steady on his feet. And then he fell. And then he stood again, and laughed at the Blood dribbling from his nose, and into his mouth, and he sang)

I AM ONE BAD MUTHERFAKIR OF A SUN OF A BITCH!

(...and then, he had the audacity, the sheer, unquenchable gaul, to ask)

Where is the Bathroom?

 

This Ornament in my room for Living
Is not to be called a Christmas Tree.
It is a monument to Merry Revelry!
For it matters not if ye follow Christ--
Buddha, Krishna, This One or That One--
And I am certain that Christ would agree.

Christ is no more God
than my finger be the Moon;
But if I moon Christ,
and give him the finger,
The Sheep fall into a swoon!

And Christ laughs,
And stomps his feet.

http://www.hipforums.com/forums/showthread.php?p=730368#post730368

 

This is the Difference,

between the Artist
and the Technician:

The Technician
uses the rules
to change
his Destiny.

The Artist
uses his Destiny
to change the rules.

 

Big grins and giggles at Idle Worship.
The Artist and The Technician made me ponder about which one I am...