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Continuous Colloquy (page 2)
Follow your instinct take control catch the drops of
dew that collect in the morning and stick in
prehistoric sap. Make bullets out of glass that will
explode the innermost of the soul of even the most
ferocious demon that asks for water made of fire made
of bronze made of pretty pretty crystal. Swallow your
fears drink more coffee drink more alcohol drink drink
drink until you open up a special door in your system
that quells the anger you feel inside.
The tree grows and branches out touches everything it sees.
Using every inch to grow , an aurour growing and growing the love for
the earth it has. A lustful love that grows with penetration as the
wind rustles it's hair. It's branches tickling and caressing the sky and
gives birth to me. as the artist paints it's beautiful leaves and so
the lust of being loved grows and finally EXPLODES!
There are various ways people choose to represent
themselves, tribunal chairs must maintain a balance along side the normal fears,
how attractive this prospect must be. Never ending, now and then, she
came forth and wanted to speak but dare not.
Have I ever told you that I can speak Finnish?" asked the lover.
"No, why do you ask", replied the joker, somewhat puzzled by the
sudden change of topic.
As if following the lover's train of thought
wasn't hard enough already. The lover continued:
"I was in Finland for
many years, during the war, and that's where I first learned about the
raining steel drops, or teräsrakeet as the locals call them... The
townfolk use strong metal nets to catch the drops, and use them for the most
exquisite steel jewelry!"
"Are you pulling my leg?"
And as the joker joked himself under the firey red skies of day his tulips
pursed the cold blue cheeks of a lover who in return told him tales of steel drops that
rained from the earth upwards.
I feel his hand as smooth as brazen grass, though chewed as
often as a bovine chews its cud. I feel an ice, and empty shell - like
nothing has been there before - and I doubt that anything shall be
there again. Nothing but pain left. Nothing but torture. Nothing but my
sweet yet empty song.
They lay there in the trees in heaven alone as ever. They just hang there.
No speaks a word but a man rows by them. in the trees of heaven or is it hell?.
No one knows.. But she holds the secret. The girl with the crystal ball.
She emerges with the secret. But No one speaks a word. No one notices a thing.
Everyone is alone. Everyone just waits.
He lied down inside his heart & the band played cancer.
Wrapped around him a melody, like the cut off tips of condoms melted together to form a line.
The green flame upside down bird sung the song solo when he passed.
May the darkness of the past cloud your mind until you can think no more.
Only then can you hope to evolve five middle fingers on your hand to use against society,
to free the world and banish the hatred and lies, to live a life as you see fit.
Doused with water from a cast iron teapot
an ambulatory wishbone builds a great pyramid
out of broken egg shells as a monument to lost love,
while high above it all a daring young aerialist
swings from his own intestines.
A ping! sound a snap from the silver lighter, its blue flame does nothing for my cold , trembling fingers as I tear tear tear and continue tearing a perfectly proportioned strip off of this hollow tubing, the grating scratching sounds are multiplied by the millions especially when am ensconced in such a dull dim quiet room. .or is this because my ears refuse to listen to anything else? Finally done, poised above the torn strip, blue flame lighter doin the dance underneath, I inhale and I suck while looking at my eye's reflected on the shiny metallic surface not once missing a beat as I chase the dragon to its perfection.. .where there is no finish line in site...
Smoke trails past the stereo,
Singular trails and slowly,
An image archetypal,
Put it off,
Adjudicate,
Investigate the charges of,
Naked opportunism,
Swept aside,
Outside,
With breakneck speed,
Bright spells are,
Letrship garbles,
We should be going now.
The finger lay suspended in the water of the fish tank.
Every once in a while it dodged the two goldfish.
Slowly the tip of the finger turned to point at me.
I knew then....I was guilty.
Somewhere in the darkness of a rat-hole, lives an old man
Beware! he knows the innermost secrets, beyond any person can
The candle holder, not intended for lighting only, alights what all
began...
Blow the thousand whistles! with all your might.
Sounds, like myriad colours, explode from this cacophony of images.
The lizards also celebrate this feast of mirrors that refuse to reflect
anything but the putrid sweaters worn by moths, all hanging in a row
as would properly be seen in the immaculate cottage of a Swiss Tax
Collector.
as deep as a pizza
Cats have been running wild
for how ever long cats have been running wild
until a kitten can sex a gerbil i bid you farewell and dont get hurt before the next episode of casualty
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