< BACK TO WORDS

Mystic Arcade

 

Finally mov­ing. Like a sequence slowed for detail-oriented judge­ments to be made. Inter­ested in state of minds, obser­va­tional phi­los­o­phy, fool­ish numb-minded fac­tory lines. How impos­si­ble it feels to not suc­cumb to dis­trac­tions. Rejected sea-created leaves are strewn across the office. They must be lack­ing pho­to­syn­the­sis and beach under­wear. Grains of sci­ence hug lean and pound. Mas­sag­ing prints of the daily clock. Death of a can­vas. A wavy gesso. Im told to paint it black. Con­niv­ing as always, the his­tory seeps through each time. Gone like sec­onds. Except when deal­ing with desserts. Then their gone like firsts.

Tra­di­tion­ally green on green inspires nat­ural decep­tion. Nat­ural. Nat­ural like hot back sand bellies.

2009

-

Free­dom feel­ers. Stomp­ing magic snowflakes with every grace­ful step. Mold­ing, mak­ing path­ways turn to sto­ried lift off sites. The ground echoes tasks and jour­neys. Thump­ing arrivals, bel­low­ing moves to leave behind. Bright­ness slides.

Foot­loose paths are swept into memory.

2009

-

Not a good per­son some­times.
Im try­ing to be.
Signs lying to me human kinds mind size blind­ing cant deny times Ive implied I tried.

1.10.09

-

Its been about three weeks now.
Its been about three weeks since I lay in bed unawake.
Unaware. Uncon­vinced. Under­wear.
Warm tea bris­tles the sense­less nose.
Wak­ing wear­ing evening clothes.
Bread­holes crisp­ing but­ter bowl.
Sun­shine dust­ing fog from souls.

8.21.09

-

Writ­ing ses­sions left with lessons.
Won­der­ment inscribes a mes­sage.
It seems the char­coal gray is blue.
It seems the moon shines right at you.
Although I ran and swung on ropes.
Im happy to leap with para­chute hopes.

8.24.10

-

Post­pon­ing moments.
Float­ing by in the ocean.
Faith­less dives with groov­ing notions.
Face­less eyes with spir­its bro­ken.
Wait­ing for the per­fect moment.

8.24.10

-

Artis­tic free­way.
The dreamy leniency.
Fired between the sequenced beliefs.
Even with rates and jour­ney­ment blood.
Even on skates they can breathe in so freely.
They can breathe out so gladly,
smil­ing madly.

2.2.10

-

Jive of a jour­ney.
Leav­ing not learn­ing.
Rub­bing the wood that need not be furnished.

2.2.10

-

Extremely mean­ing,
Breath­ing deeply.
I hunger for more,
to reach in so deeply.
Nerves strik­ing beauty,
with words flow­ing through me.
Search­ing for love,
steal­ing from cruelty.

8.24.10

-

Rhythm and sound aint bring­ing me down.
I feel I rise up.
I feel love rain­ing down.

Vision seems so fre­quent leav­ing recent mov­ing chang­ing chas­ing think­ing re-arranging.
I cant help just lov­ing rac­ing run­ning lovely weaved with help­less. Smiles shine above me.
Hope­fully, I love me.

8.24.10

-

Top­pling down for top­less mounds.
Giv­ing way to everyday’s.
Leav­ing town the wrongest ways.
Down around and over things.
Sense­less minds with ink­less pens.
Some­times I try to rec­om­mend my brain to round a dif­fer­ent bend.
Use­less effort.

-

Scene sequence with beats for dream­heads.
Just a means to feed.

-

The deci­sion cri­sis is spread­ing like wild­fire.
If what we don’t have is what we want.
Then how will we ever be right?
If our mind keeps lying were kinda fucked any­way right?

-

The tribal resis­tance.
Arrival.
Good rid­dance.
Team­ing tough to leave us rough and bleed­ing from leak­ing regions.

-

Through with read­ing lines repeat­ing.
Leave your seats receiv­ing rea­sons.
Rea­son being thoughts careen­ing.
Need to speak before Im sleeping.

-

First for last.
Glass and dirt.
Work in silk,
To milk the clerk.

Ride on the end of this one.

-

The con­cen­tra­tion.
A moment is com­ing.
It always is.
A moment that makes you blow your lid.
A moment that nears the world just spins.
Rea­son to invite with­out within.
Bring the ruckus.
Bring the love.
Holy fuck lets fuck then hug.
Abrupt.
Erupt.
Inter­ac­tion based.
Noth­ing but love the great escape.

6.5.10

-

A dream I saw on thurs­day night.
Or was it wednes­day.
A lovely flight.
An ama­zon.
Or so it seemed.
A rea­son to con­tinue sleep.
Rea­son being. Every­thing.
I let my ears just hear them sing.
Ill let you hear.
If you believe.
Theres more to see.
While you still breathe.

5.24.10

-

A region thats ripped
leaves peo­ple with
a rea­son to
erupt within.
A rea­son to
dis­rupt again.

5.3.10

-

Its a writ­ing chal­lenge in evening gowns.
Night­fall speaks with griev­ing clouds.
Although we think we just cant seem.
To see the world as a liv­ing being.

8.20.10

-

Just a snip­pet from my head equipment.

-

Rolling glim­mers.
Nomad crit­ters.
Bounce and shine
like danc­ing glit­ter.
Mas­sag­ing earth to knead it thin­ner.
Leav­ing inners.
Time delivered.

The trees hurt my feet.
Bru­tal­ize them ocean.

-

Thank you for every breath, every move­ment.
Every effort to adjust my per­spec­tive.
Every evil deed accom­pa­nied by remark­able beauty.
The world con­tin­ues to spin.
There is always time for a lit­tle more action and reac­tion.
It would be very dif­fi­cult to put down the free­dom mal­lets.
The expres­sive direc­tions.
Embracive selec­tions with love and affec­tion.
It is never too late to expe­ri­ence iso­lated moments of nat­ural perfection.

-

Hot air bal­loon with throt­tle con­trol.
The nerves may run the nerves may stroll.
Stay con­duc­tor never leave.
Your arm con­trols all my beliefs.
Your arm adjusts thoughts and dreams.
Your arm pro­vides the rea­son being.
I need you please.
For­ever chang­ing.
Never leav­ing.
Stay con­duc­tor.
Never leave.

-

All the fire­flies.
I want to return to their evenings.
Bar­be­cue sites with kick back tracks.
Notes to soothe.
The brains relaxed.
Ear mas­sage.
Brand new laughs.
Tilt­ing eyes.
Match tilt­ing skies.
Fire­flies.
The dream is back.

1.9.09

-

Zero and zero make one.
It seems the world has for­got­ten.
Or sim­ply dis­re­garded the impor­tant.
It seems to sim­ply be get­ting worse.
The tech­nol­ogy race slows us from killing each other.
But makes it increas­ingly easy to destroy us as a whole.
It seems evo­lu­tion has made this inevitable.

And now its too late.

7.26.10

-

Finally.
Deathly penal­ties with healthy melodies.
Incred­i­bly.
Tip­toe­ing mis­chief.
Mist and haze and shoe­less days.

1.9.09

-

Mankind is just a land mine.
Wait­ing to explode at the most con­ve­nient time.
Wait­ing in line for my time of dying.
Cant ignore fragility.
Its why I drink the wine.
It seems about the time.
The time being now.
As long as were still here we don’t need to know how.

All I know.
Is Im going to die.

With a chance to live forever.

-

Its cause we think.
Its cause the out­side world thinks for us.
We just have to avoid the ones that talk.
The breeze can steal my thoughts.
I wel­come the ocean.
Grass crawl­ing through toes with sun­lit faces.
Inter­act­ing with those who talk, though dan­ger­ous, fills my lungs with air.
We are immersed in it.
Every­thing between our blinks is drip­ping with beauty.

Wake up.
Come alive.

4.29.10

-

The wheels are round but some have dents.
The straight ahead road has fence defense.
Jug­gling rocks with a rusted belly.
No speedome­ters aint no tellin.
Crawl­ing steep and stum­bling ledges.
At least a piece is humbly guess­ing.
At least the feel has hunger dress­ing.
It seems were made to keep progressing.

4.29.10

-

Ive seen a sun­rise that shook the earth.
Ive also felt a world of hurt.
Love and fear.
All there is.
Im stuck it seems some­where between.

8.25.10

-

Every blink a new work of art.
Pasted to mem­ory by the capturers.

10.21.09

-

Ive got a feel­ing. A feel­ing Im los­ing. A feel­ing Im win­ning.
Tro­phies are smiles and rib­bons are laugh­ter.
The game isn’t there to win.
Its sim­ply there to be played with hap­pi­ness.
To be loved or respected?
I think the answer is clear.

10.21.09

-

So many melodies to revive the jour­neys. What where and when. Most impor­tantly. How it felt. Beauty sur­rounds. It is almost too much to han­dle. I find myself frozen in awe at the utter per­fec­tion of the most inno­cent per­for­mances of nature. A sym­phony com­posed by the jour­ney from dawn to dawn. A cycle of ever chang­ing life. Enveloped in ela­tion. Threaded together by love.

10.21.09

-

Stuck down in eye delight city writhing in pity for under­wear skinny.
Pre­sea­son spin­ning jump­ing, beginning.

-

Small attack reac­tionar­ies, relax canaries, impaired scared, aware and wary.
Some­times all you need is sun­shine, across the face, a brief escape, a brief intake engulf in landscape.

-