Discovery of the Dandelion

Primord elongus mute zone. Blue, blink,. Torn that at, box In box, vanilla.

In visions of gold

And back to the tiger again, he-father, she-mother. Cold, but dots a splash of life in shadows,

In realms

In between the blue pearls of dead

Sweet joy of the savage

Sweet joy of the rotten and decanted, the.

In very occlude precision

Faint flames of the yore

Busses of ghosts and cunts

Marching on, forgive the hell

 And shades and shapes of the black lizards

Just a few clichéd terms

And the moon will be hours

Yes, o yes I speak of the carnival joy

Conniving honey-scented bees bedamned

Sway, little doll

Sway a while by

But where’s the sharp bite and, fuck!

All the demented and doomed

Stare out from the café

And see

Something I won’t conjure up

And yet be close the doors and befuck with the light!

…

Onno this discord and mutiny inside

Flesh sugar grab moonlight starsong

To keep the buzzing fleas off burning red flesh

That fire, is , jubilation

Within corpus juris corpus christi corpus luteum

Feels the joy in whistling them away

And letting be what would not be

Oars and the camerashoes

How we take

The mountain

In dacoitsong go back,

regress, inside brain, neurons, cells that spark

Conscious of self as a soul/sole

Tumble me down

To severe ugly darks

And so children gather around the wise old mask

And hear about the body and death.

That’s the valley

Of wrathful rivers

Rivers reverse the rehearse off my stage you mothrfucjer!

Off my stage I say, Oedipal in delight of the own

I say and I rise

Like snake jutting up to kiss the light

That’s light of cold pale places, freeze-up, a while

Of me getting a hunchback

O know. Who has condemned! Or am I a puppet too?

The question made me push the blanks

That I feared and now I won’t

Damn, it shrinks

Seems like glue piling up

And gather sad effects of entirety through reflective decoders,

And that’s how the silver gathers strength in another

Gush of the avalanche

Let’s just see what happens! Push the bits up for a while, and conditioning of all, fuckgrey silhouettes

Maybe that’s the conditioned lust

Of the petrified ones to switch off before the staircase and shiver down below

You think the thin one floating, the thin ones floating outline Genie,

Is a huge balloon by the gooey beach.  

Observation: titty fucking is good.

…..

 Back to the light for a while please\essential functions are being conducted/in lips and flowering hip

….

 Yes yes flow of the distant synthesis.

It’s like when I stare, like a huge sad goat

Beyond horizons, I get nasty things I’ trying my best to push in the light

of pavements from bellow-gutters and labyrinth.

That’s the way I still think of the primal city of instincts

O hateful reckoning, take me in, rescue me, I’ll find protection on my own, fuck off, junipers,

Now you know why

I lash out loud electric, throbbing and sharp

…..

 

Pushing through circles

Damn. No more blasted fake glues!

…….

Blots blotted, lionman! Paranoia. Awakening

Ancient tribal domes

One hurt mother. And silent, awhile

……

And bleeding to

One emotional sparrowsong

Now again phoenix withers away through substitution

One step lordbound, up

Inscriptions, damnation,

Now slanted, reject

Dick Regency.

Poetry is the greatest trick of godhood, to wrap up hot with the cold.

……

Tasks again. O whatthehellheehee!

That’s how fake your wax can be,

Bitter wormed candy, all in pink and white

Nah, starts coming again

The happy attack

To the second loop

The extra step.

Radio.

Sparrow.

Roadblock.

Stuck in muck

Googoofuck.

….

 

:’( alas! this depletion of resources. L

….

Nomore the world of jewels, this hazy sweetness

Glimmer shimmer object conception of animals of elephants

Telephone sparks

Infallible, the numbing blue once again

Blur off, faint dream in mother vision reality

Of advertisements and resumes

Choke it off

Shake it

Serve it. Done. Rain in valley of eerie

hunters

by day, vomiting soldiers in damned pain

Mauve passes through, as dwarfed magenta agent

…

Hero of the headless ones as the wheelspeak seeps through

Sleepwalking by broken factories. Statues. Swirls and moves back.

Just these joyrides in the discreet valley. 

….

False windows

Barring our path

Through own frames

Through own mirrors.

Mirror-frame syndrome.

…

Attrition rates high.

Sugarmills.

Windshine.

Palmplain

Dostoevsky would’ve nodded right here.

….

It’s alive, lady wisdom

Slender lady torpor

Oink oink Cinderella shut

Naked foliage brutal stationary jets gods big stand still hush judge

And then, before you know, dead.

Things should’ve been better,

And far more pure.

….

Mother, I weep like a spider dangling sown the skies stuck in faint green hue

Mostly grey and platinum, just the way our great Oracle had wanted it to be. Incomplete, incognito,

And hell.

…..

ebaar tomaaye khaabley khoobley khabo.

…..

That force

Relieved released

Now, to disintegrate

Into tiny dots of time.

….

Goodnight, navigate

Little room

Our nights and noons that made us laugh

In sweet cocoon

Of polka dot

I’ll think of that instead

Lips pressing, tongues tangled

My palm and your waist

Lighting those little sparks, that show some light not much light

Of ancient trees ahead, crawling, insect, angry doll, farlost tribe

I was to be one of these

But for simulation.

As I trudge through these stormy deserts

I will think of light and shadow making eerie magic on the walls instead.

I won’t think of the sadness of sands.

I will be grave and won

….

Knife. Smirk. True love in big strong beautiful majestic sky. Suckaboobie!

Whatever remains of me

can still hold on to the knife

I gave most of all

You gave all you could. It was a sad departure.

Rained. I was at the carnival. And yet I was staring up for moving dots,

Like the ones that come out of wings of pretty little fairies of bonsai-sex imposed-soft magnet-machine. I was looking up and the carnival couldn’t impress me as much as it should ideally have.

I walked back home. And I slept in throbbing sting.

…

Basking. Spilled and stuck.

Sweet nausea sweaty mound

Yogi gave a wisdom tree

Flowers, white sparkle sun holiday in gloss

To cover the gaps that might fume one day

 Many beneath this lying haze waiting. Frozen to the still rack of memory

They’ll be a thousand, incubating.

Pictures adjust blue-doored white-walled platitude,

Decoding our way through this valley

“Pulse levels”

Tiger you sarcastic etcetera morally bored crocodiles and gods. Colours are essential to comprehend. Real dove flies,

That sharp joiner.

Bright and durable, painless

From myth-man I carve this day, from mother I start to unlearn.

Welcomed by graceful motions of simpler geometry,

like clouds that make the world sadder than three million dead rats,

I play my sad sundown.

….

Wary

Didn’t go down

Focused on roots going down

Before electric corpses beyond delight

Didn’t listen

to the doleful dirge

for clues.

Oysters hatch sweet corn of love.

…