Untitled

ALL we've done from the very beginning is sprung crazy fabrications out the deepest regions of imagination Best served hot Best served fresh LIFE can't be something tied to the flesh and bone TOO frequently reminded of the fiction in the friction that keeps me blinded prolonging doom in the form of little blue pills sustaining gloom in ever fleeting thrill accosted by the nature of nature imposed upon the muck that spawns becomes the very reason we hate HER yet emulate HER in ways so inconsistent that I find no mode of resistance for these divine fascisms DOS and DON'TS of a neverloving God so mercifully slaughtered by these acts of fraud NOW once again with no purpose I intend to watch the construction of this man made obstruction to the God I seek this ideological jungle so concrete BUT no souls know that this smile so discrete is a scowl of self defeat and deluded perception for my brain too slowly consumed by infection oozes out the ear in such cold and perilous moments of fear and deception

So We’ll Be Demons
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I don't seem to find an answer
There stands in place the night
And every time you romance her
The formations of your plight
You still seem to pants her

A quick roll of the die
It lands too far away from home
But nigh in the blink of your eye
Outside fields once roamed
Tufts of clouds and billowing foam
Looming nimbus on high

So we’ll be demons
Struck down by our own bane
To follow us our legions
Though we so ordained

They say nothing more
Mistake flower for weed
And not a thing before
In fact we find it a bit of a deed
My head just hit the floor
This time of need

As you can see
When 1 is 1
As I can't
Things come undone
Without recant

So we’ll be demons
Struck down by our own bane
To follow us our legions
Though we so ordained

Where Saints Cross Paths

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Keep on this lovely freeway
Where we see way to clear skies
Indeed they seem far far away
Yet in that dream they come close but die
Almost touching the stars but stop instead
At the junction rest stop ahead
The place where sleep and reality becomes a blur
Mortal peeps and divine M’ams and Sirs
Meet and doze pretending they know
All the questions having no suggestions
They trudge on in hush singing no songs
In the wake of a rush speeding cars gone
By and by only to lie and lie on
This incredible trap bleeding the crap
The substance of this globe like rap
But in this moment I said not a thing
But drivel that shrivels under my wing
Sorrow and blame
Strike a pose
For Love and Peace
Yes, we’re open, Sorry, we’re closed
A beggars shame
Is that how it goes
A King unsheathes
The red tide flows
In the beginning in the end the saints don’t know
This war’s not a war to be fought
It’s a game not a chore with an end ever sought
It trudges and we think that we’ve got it made
In grudges all that’s left is to pray?
No thank you please I’ll pass on that
While with ease they pass on out
With ass all out of those jeans hanging down
$85.95 In his coin pool the duck drowns
With every little thing comes the sound ching
And with that timely ring the world goes ‘round
But I don’t even think and I don’t even breathe
Because I’m to busying exiting my mind at ease
A final attempt to seize a moment of bliss
In which I can too go to sleep
Though I’m to busy ludicrously acting a foo’
So in this bimbo limbo my soul to keep
And if I die before I sleep
No, I won’t that’s way too cheap
Sorrow and blame
Strike a pose
For Love and Peace
Yes, we’re open, Sorry, we’re closed
A beggars shame
Is that how it goes
A King unsheathes
The red tide flows
In the beginning in the end the saints don’t know
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

GO BUBBLE!

Nostalgic Insomniacs roam the Lawn’s midnight plane,

As the Bubble’s delicate film bursts over the flame.

No foresight, just foreskin,

In the minds of tainted youth,

That stand on the edge of the sun,

With a bright green olive & splash of Vermouth.

The Cleaver’s ejaculate on the globe,

Reflections, Vitalities all so inane…

The Parade for the clinically insane,

As the bullet meets the frontal lobe,

The float coasts on the waves of Princess Dye.

Roll the Die!  Why, Maryann?  Why?

Embrace the underground we live under,

Though the lifestyle choice is ours.

When Rumours become Thunder,

Dreams relinquish all power.

The heat of flame, the crackle of fire,

“Nothing like starting the summer off with a bang!”

GO BUBBLE!  KABOOM!!!  The Insomniacs at last retire.

Thyroid Kingdom

…

Brazened smorange commuters

Shadows of happy little dead kids

Hidden behind brooding computers

Because of what the little rabbits did

Grey Phantoms of former selves

Fallout amongst Sandman’s debris

Books only look good on shelves

A neon face to shroud insecurity

And so you will chop off my head

Though the blade is not so fake

And these stinging dreams we seem to dread

Though we never ever wake

How could any decision be made

If a mind is in drowned in chains?

Grab a party hat and join the parade

We’ll tell ourselves we ought to be slain

And then we will chop off your head

Though the blade we know is not so fake

And these stinging dreams we seem to dread

Though we never want to wake

A free mind in chains

Just say we are so slain.

…

All I See is Sirens.

A fading tail of embers

Burns off of a busy ceiling

We couldn’t possibly remember

The nature of this feeling

In a drunken gray skyline

Imagination blisters

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,

“Probably should have kissed her.”

Inadequacy, Congestion,

Many little blue and black men

And in every direction

All I see is sirens.

The lunar river scalds

The hero’s tarnished complexion

On the moonlight streams fall

The same unexplored sector

No she wasn’t that pretty

In the merciless slaughter

On a bench in the bloody city

Some dead man’s daughter

Anxiety, Expansion,

Not just now and then

And off in the horizon

and the only one i'm fooling is myself...

the stone tumbles cracks and crumbles 

as new york city crashes

a universe invincible humbled

lies in sugar coated ashes

hatred greed ignorance and spite

a static blinking screen

a child cries to sleep at night

the buzz that haunts dreams

all things that could have been

all things that aren’t

never again will they be seen

though not too far apart

faith in the world come and gone

sadly i'm still here

no horizon left to look on

but one of void and fear

minutes drag a tethered carcass

makes less and less sense

sinking in this tangled mess

are we the  penance of false pretense