flip top

the wig furiates.  it twists it’s hage shaple.  it so much wants to wring the hectre shates; an incense burnt beyond rational construction.
abstract aggregates and fools, it rathes to gnag. the enraged stoke peels the sensitivities in whole rips and burns from the face of acceptance.
it wants obliteration, against the fit nots.  no times out to its game, it flips until it’s over.

the tendered edge

i want to be mad flown; frustrate; annihilate sown.  but you stand in my way.  my way-    lost to the toe you draw about me.  am me.  forever backward-  i find.  and i cannot argue with consistent or prolonged conviction.
my twirl-around fools none of your shadows.  your deeply is my in me. a voraciously stubborn charm on a crack and dandle.  strop the balance, venomous tear.
with somehow your touch, a reminder, scraping, and soothing.  you are where i see, and where i won’t see.
and you hold my well despite myself.

Monster Television Commercial: Stork

here is a commercial i gravitate towards. someone told me once that i see in "storybook," that the way i explain things is like it is being read from old books of children's fable and rhyme. that stuck with me, because i found that i "see" in dramatic frames. that is that my imagination seems to be continually insinuated in my sight of what seems to be the "real" world. light is grander, textures wonderfully drawing me through the wiles of optic impression, sounds tymbic soft and the notes of tasted air and whorl.

expressive moments like this video are reassurances i am not dreaming, a pat on the back by someone saying you're not alone - we're all mad here.

embarrassed reuben

the sexes confuse me. why they fight so much. fuss so much. grouping together to group against another. ultimately they seem to just want comforts – to sooth the perceived pains as real or fictional as they might be. perhaps to escape? perhaps to forget. humans are social. i believe in evolution and that we have evolved an instinctual response to grouping together. perhaps we all have varying degrees of this instinctual sensation.


the “race” is no less fussed, neither are the “classes.” our beautiful balance confused in favour of the variable caste.

Embrace Life - always wear your seat belt

a timeless piece for me.

the eyeless everything

i am not the demented ornament sought.  ' neither strange enough, peculiar enough, valuable enough, subtle enough, accessible enough.  i see and cannot stop the ask; perspective is my peripheral curse.  the verbed song in my occulatim occursari.
whose song am i?  my own curse; my own cure.  a cause explaining itself to the hundred white.  but the eyeless needs no explanation.  a timeless second surpassing the articulations of the invented.  still, i am dipped in the gray satellite; a float between the shouting black and white polarities.  defined and deafening.  strange and compelling.  familiar and repulsive.
i glide there but never fall.  not enough gravity to make an impact, not enough momentum to fly away.

magic's in peripheral

the sit is so close to an endless reach; seemingly, perceivably.  the half-inch underwater might be five leagues of a shoe ~ half-size too small.
i might be reaching to a scraped sky long left of cloud and slight.  a vacation of the void that used to be my pal, my medium.  and with little left to crutch and chew i am my own myth amoung the wandering question.  discovery imminent; knowledge an abstract zanfona playing a piper's song.  weared my textures go?  lost in the lint trap?
but all along i am the everything blanket shouldering the flying boy.

wide ruled

i have no class
             no rubylith that shows up in the photocopy
       i have presence - substance like a pencil, non-photo blue

       but i am not lead to leave record.

a review of some comfort

demands of convention

expression (aka "art") does not demand to be figured out

one does not have to "get it" or even understand

your experience is your own

manhattan ergonomics

bright is brow suftly folded
into knot and whole we fall
our fussor

substitution agorath

without tears the random hidth continues

blank check for white noise

where are the other wanderers in the lone

the corner turned reveals a continual absent

parallel wink

incarnation of a kind of failure is the remembering of name over experience

label over content

on top of existence

the knot i tie  -  is
            and

entirely

again, i'm much as not as am

the 1927

the avenue is blind aft and abstract
i envy my toes

woulden

the doors usually cheer me up
nail by nail their mystery
frightens me but with a familiar
hinge

of moles

eager to get foot to floor
the mud slots my toe by toe

dialogue from a lantern gnat

"sometimes, well actually more often than i like, glagnez will become preoccupied having tunnel vision for the synchron and lumenit of their various glowe.  it seems their preoccupation sends their minds cottonwadt loosing reason or spectrum for specific colour.  it also seems as though they believe or feel that there is only one type of gnite.  they send a failing on the continuum diversity.  we gnats are highly varied.  i cannot count the many relative types that exist.  yet, we tend to fuss over tone, hue, lumenit, and frequency of our wonderful midgnite."


[notes on the knot-species "lantern gnat"]
glagnez is pronounced "lawns" and is the name lantern gnats refer to themselves as.
gnite or "glowe" refers to the centric attribute of their bioluminescence.  it also speaks for the unique culture of glagnez as they see it; at times affectionately referred to as "midgnite."
lumenit refers to relative "voice" of emitted light or "brightness."
synchron refers to light pattern.

self observate

unremarkable in prismatic ranges.  auramatic fumes collecting for explosive insinuates into the apparency of existence.
proximity reveals the rhythm and perspective.

black and white coffee exception

in relative forms; lost in the neo logism; a modern-moment intellectual existente. torn between the seemingly opposing sides of reality - his own and the aggregate other. social pressures of conformity bombarded him at a time when he could not defend his own mind. aggravating, confusing; the nurture of his guardians and close influences as well as the nature he inherited guided him through those strange realities. eventually there came a parallel understanding of the once peripheral ghosts in his surround. he began to make sense of what he'd known, what was, what is, and what may yet be to come. his photographic ability with memory is not as keen as it seems the average is, but his intuition is saturate with the stains and crumbs of experience. his subtle witness is sensitive and he has come to know of his sensitivity. he wields it now where once it only floundered about randomly.

the pressures to belong and connect are not lost on him either as a benefit or detriment to himself or that of the collective other. at one time he searched for elements that defined or could define his being - his be-ing; to himself; to others. but ultimately, and after many failed attempts, he came to find that no one thing, idea, or presentation could define what he was or felt. the idea of individual representations (static icons of self-worth, identity, or validity) persistently felt ludicrous; not by design or choice, but by awareness, realization, and result.

in fact, somewhere in him, for who knows how long, he's known and appreciated the individual dynamic quality and importance... in existence. of all things, not just human. and so, while he has his objections and disagreements, he finds that there is ultimately no (benefit to) argument to have with anyone except in the emotional exchange and the working out of thought that is afforded by the process of arguing or debate (conversation). we each are unique. gathering experience unique to our path and process. even the identical twin, by existing as a separate entity from its counterpart will have a relatively likewise unique experience (even if they'd like to think otherwise). our opinions, beliefs, understanding, perceptions, and perspective are all unique to our individual dynamic. this is not to say that we should not argue, or persuade, or challenge, etc. these attributes or qualities are of our nature. and we each are steward to our own nature, our own dynamic. it is we who are charged with representing and sharing that dynamic with all else. and to do so, in part, requires our acceptance, embrace, and understanding of the possible other points of view.
whatever level of action we choose to act on we are still connected in existence, with each other, with our environment. whether workaday or layman, couch potato or deadbeat, celebrity or genius they all have connection, influence, and importance.

realist? anarchist? existentialist? artist? fatalist? pessimist? optimist?

the "ist" he consistently feels rhythm with is exist.

empirical me

i love distorted parallax and peripheral ignition of cone and rod; i see 3-d in 3-d because of my astigmatic situation.  the nighted sky, especially, engages my optics in anaglyphic duelism.  the "stray planet" is my favourite celestial product, like an orphean ophan rapt in underwrold blankets of asteric superlative.  the radiant notion of external medium is a suspension i am grateful to be immersed within; an infinite singularity.

soda pop corollary

if rootbeer is 1, dr. pepper is 2, vernor's ginger ale is 3, and shasta cream soda is 4, then:

shasta cream soda multiplied by dr. pepper minus vernor's ginger ale doesn't equal a juan-shy six-pack.  it equals a "where is my rootbeer?"

battery question for potential girlfriends

if rootbeer is number 1 and dr. pepper is number 2, of states i would least like to visit, then:

"dr. pepper is to florida as rootbeer is to ________________."