DEAD
.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
double bird strike
some birds tried to crash an airliner in new york.
in his final act as president, bush should begin the war on feathers.
they almost killed freedom today.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
the road to progress is covered in road kill
your sense of righteousness
is created by contradicting seemingly opposing
synonyms like apathy and protest:
both are an expected reaction and part of the system.
oh, but you drive an electric car.
well, it's powered by coal.
that's where the magic electricity from you wall orginates.
it pains me to write these obvious truths
because i feel they are so obvious i'm a fool for writing them
but i'm starting to believe that a great deal of people
are sucking so hard from the tit of their daily programming
that it makes you uncomfortable to be around anything contrary
including the obvious.
is created by contradicting seemingly opposing
synonyms like apathy and protest:
both are an expected reaction and part of the system.
oh, but you drive an electric car.
well, it's powered by coal.
that's where the magic electricity from you wall orginates.
it pains me to write these obvious truths
because i feel they are so obvious i'm a fool for writing them
but i'm starting to believe that a great deal of people
are sucking so hard from the tit of their daily programming
that it makes you uncomfortable to be around anything contrary
including the obvious.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Thing about it
the concept of nothing vs. no Thing:
nothing we were taught,
no Thing we were.
the way nothing represents Nothing,
we are made to believe the idea of no
Thing (which is only any Thing)
is nothing.
you are not nothing.
you are no Thing
in some Thing.
More than some Thing
is in every Thing
that was not a Thing.
nothing we were taught,
no Thing we were.
the way nothing represents Nothing,
we are made to believe the idea of no
Thing (which is only any Thing)
is nothing.
you are not nothing.
you are no Thing
in some Thing.
More than some Thing
is in every Thing
that was not a Thing.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
acting anonymously
you want a conglomeration of words, well the words are going to drive me fucking crazy. when i smear excrement on the screen and click post all that comes up is my hands smelling like shit. meet me in the fifth dimension or on some scribbles written by a hand time and society forgot placing it under the label homeless' begging device. look to the stars you fucking bum, because you're not welcome here anymore. not by electronic us anyway. i've been engineered to avoid scenarios leading to outcomes like this. excuse me, i must have forgotten to take my fish oil capsule today.
/now offering free interviews to clarify any confusion
/i've tried to write something
/it wasn't meant to be
commentary by the author: In this piece i choose to examine the nature of memory. one memory in particular. the memory of a man who made the street his home. he would tell me things like jesus will return from the sun to take all the vegetarians on his magic ride however, most vegetarians only think they're vegetarians. in the soil that their vegetables are grown in there are animal parts that enter the vegetable that then enter the human. i think about him from time to time because he was a very passionate man. he tried his best to help everyone understand but no one could understand the textbook definition of madness that spewed from his mouth. he would write pages upon pages of his philosophy to document the inner workings of his mind and make copies at kinkos to hand them out en masse. he smelled very bad and he looked like santa claus. many bums look like santa claus i suppose.
/now offering free interviews to clarify any confusion
/i've tried to write something
/it wasn't meant to be
commentary by the author: In this piece i choose to examine the nature of memory. one memory in particular. the memory of a man who made the street his home. he would tell me things like jesus will return from the sun to take all the vegetarians on his magic ride however, most vegetarians only think they're vegetarians. in the soil that their vegetables are grown in there are animal parts that enter the vegetable that then enter the human. i think about him from time to time because he was a very passionate man. he tried his best to help everyone understand but no one could understand the textbook definition of madness that spewed from his mouth. he would write pages upon pages of his philosophy to document the inner workings of his mind and make copies at kinkos to hand them out en masse. he smelled very bad and he looked like santa claus. many bums look like santa claus i suppose.
observation by a male college graduate from southern california who enjoys nature, music, and writing, aged 22 years
a lot of people i know aren't happy working for the war machine
fed up?
i would like to watch
the world end with you.
it'd be nice to know you
don't have to work tomorrow
because your work won't exist.
the concept of working
for money (another concept)
won't exist.
for one glorious moment
the world will be as pure
as you want it to be.
the world end with you.
it'd be nice to know you
don't have to work tomorrow
because your work won't exist.
the concept of working
for money (another concept)
won't exist.
for one glorious moment
the world will be as pure
as you want it to be.
good night
as i lay in bed
masturbating
again, i decide to write
this poem instead
and smoke a bowl outside
with my feet in the grass
and my eyes on the moon.
masturbating
again, i decide to write
this poem instead
and smoke a bowl outside
with my feet in the grass
and my eyes on the moon.
nebulousnNever,neverNo where?
swim spinning in pools of turquoise smoke
my head spilled like soup with steam drowning in my eyes
pupil
lucid
born
through elephantine ideas gripping the hinges of nebulosity
cus crystals are in caves
and the most limpid iris
fused to an inky pupil
In this divide
a palpable pore
a wet lip
: the fuck in the tenebrous terrain
i'm smelling my sweat
riding the curves of life
this feels
good.
around
my head spilled like soup with steam drowning in my eyes
pupil
lucid
born
through elephantine ideas gripping the hinges of nebulosity
cus crystals are in caves
and the most limpid iris
fused to an inky pupil
In this divide
a palpable pore
a wet lip
: the fuck in the tenebrous terrain
i'm smelling my sweat
riding the curves of life
this feels
good.
around
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
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