Thursday, April 28, 2016
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Black Spiral Dedux Prelude
So Dutifully, I've catalogued
the chaos of deduction into
of a black spiral
So cantankerous a sore it has made me..
To write is not always right.
enlightenment is but another ceremony I've since passed
and failed to retrieve its boon.
It goes boom! Like any other explosive substance.
like another composure.
..Calls attn. to the changing luminescence of lights..
..inspires might in the meek
when night folds over
falls under the eyes,
"I'm always tired.."
when nothing is always
even those fires that burn like
thumps in the chest.
But, i've digressed. A tendency that composes the lack spiral
to deduce its crux
does it move in or out
a black hole or explosive substance.
Ah, to dedux….
This chaos came from the margins.
Just you wait and see..
O can't you sii, I can't conceive..
All that chlorophyll has cast a
Penumbra and it's encompassing me
in yellow impressionistic detail.
Blinded by it, (& this or afflicted by that)
crossbow my true-love's Sun with her own
my true love…
she wrote for someone else
& sent it spiraling through
the pages of my black-blank book.
The most exact revenge is misquotation;
& this this
is but a demonstration in selves-mutilation.
A love letter to the myth of Katharsis
i too, your pupil's project---In
that similar self-same exercise --
in the night
along some cynical battleground
where the chlorophyll drips like
like… like a noisy, cyclic faucet
funneling into a House of Id-olatry
mirrors named: "mI half-flat tire-swing."
rust-riddled with weather-worn incantations about how to say
"Childhood dies just like its toys:
stashed in opaque boxes or sold,
but either way, the answer is always
"in storage somewhere."
With waddling callouses, our frets must feel out the talkings if Nature insists
on bending the branches so that leaves may eclipse the spotlight's beam from
revealing whichever road will unwind time.
"When you're a narcissist, every doorknob is a reflection,"
i too have
through talkative door's
i too have
pissed on the steps
of astranger's place.
i too have
you've trapped the thesis
in a labyrinth of human sciences
& what matter is comes down to energy put in;-
Later, following stumbling footsteps
my head screwed on back ways
It's energy will
….the fork -- NO!
the absurd fork
IT IS CONFUSED
some people look north
other people seen south
but those who look both ways
so often confuse
THIS & THAT;
a brain is not a factory, but it's like one
a body is not extension, but it's iiii's
BLAH-blah-BLAH-blah, BLa simile but a metaphor..
&one's senses are not an assembly crew,
but sometimes like one & mind's not a corporation.
THOSE PLURALS EXPLOIT THEIR CELLS,
an i SHOULD ONLY EXPLOIT ITSELF. only then is it
if ideas must have true cause,
what of uncertainties? surely truth, too,
is a skill
"What are you babbling about?" I babble back at the absurd fork.
"Oh, well, do you swim?"
"MY GOD MAN! We're resigned
to perpetual dog-paddling
in a potentially pointless
LOOP around the WILL of some
HOOK-ed punctuation on HIGH!"
get to the point?"
"That's the point!"
"can't you see?"
"No, that's where we started."
"..tell me to get to the point," the fork forks, foreshadowing its fatal flaw.
(Later, following an ordeal of wine)
"I don't think I could deal with perfection.
What's there to do?" "True. If heaven never changes
there's no wifi, right?"
""UNLESS HEAVEN IS WiIFIi!""
the absurd fork
forms another utencil
in its own image &
finally ends it.
I was wrong not to see the ripples building.
for eons! ( like the chin-scratching said of bodies
There is nothing important to relay--
we stare anyway.
Maybe that's that
but a routine
Amor Fati, huh?
The love of that
deafening my potential
blinds mynds instances
@ its percepts.
"I'll find….. a flowchart in brail
& blow your mind with it," my brain says provokingly.
the world is spinning
I muster amongst my i's, &
the black spiral dance to deducible redux'i
my parading noggin into a place
where constant motion make me.
Where Stasis only paralyzes….
"What are you babbling about?"
my brain barks at me. "Nothing one more time."
""Okay. From the begInnIng!""
"Okay! O CAN'T YOU SEA...
I CAN'T CONSIEVE!"