‘…a clown’s death with painted on tears dripping down to where heart is on my sleeve wiping away the wet the emotional debt i used to rage against when my body let me know that something was terribly wrong desanctimonious and i could not run away from the faces like feces schmeared upon the screen-lit smiles vapidly humming electrical wire sound trickling in from the empty surround that envelopes us with signals symbolic of the dread inherent in living through these lenses, and each a differing sight to behold if only for the fleeting moments we have Here though not always in listening to one another but to our own voices sometimes do we ever become aware of what a vessel like this can truly contain without being spilled as those cliches of milk…’ – out of Context.
out of Context -‘…i started writing all this material to begin with as a challenge not an obstacle to aid in the personal evolution that each of us enters into without knowing how or what the journey entails, and whose entrails have come one-eighty degrees for me so the stagnancy ends now as i begin to wage a battle with myself and nature and words and whatever powerful series of forces influences my decisions to accept the renewed challenge starting next month to write and publish my thoughts or poetry or whatever stories i have to share with what little audience i really have in the Out There for what i hope will go further than a year of this consistent practice making me better mind body and soul…’
out of Context; ‘…thought takes hold once a shining novelty wears away to fading glow into the dull finish of something taken for granted time and again, attempting to present any sort of thing that can be used as an offering willingly sacrificed as credit or collateral to gaining whatever advantage might be attained Here, and where no gods have eternal strength if no one believes in what they create this goes the same for incorporated entities whom find their ideal world lacking when witnessed through a different lens than perfection…’
‘no regard for the lives tossed aside because once we attain the top of a
heap of reaping what we have sown it is done, and no one will be able to
disparage the path taken to get to that point in the road especially as
we cycle through so many given variables orders to repeat the experiment
to verify the absolute proof to which we can comfortably label in words
absolutely as the truth… a wrench to stop the works of all the monkeys
collected at thousands of typewriters to achieve what only time and luck
allow us to achieve in the forms of a nuclear bomb or freed electricity
to decimate the consumers consummating their wedded bliss to technocrat
leisure class conservation of motion and energy, guerrilla warfare of the
most connected and captivated’…out of Context.
‘the universe conversing with itself though not as solipsistic that it seems at once first appearing to be some kind of collateral whether by-product or damage makes no difference Here when the what with some kind of wonderful expectation that gets demolished becomes disrespect and affliction as the attack comes not from the pain but the nostalgia that cracks the dimensions of dementia open to possibilities that were never before conceived amusing some over others more certainly as the slapstick bitter insulting how science at its least humane takes human guinea pigs to breach the savage novelty as cracks in the walled forts linked by common enemies to form fortress mentalities so vitally opposed to delirium harvested by oft-invested directions of attention driveling and sniveling by-products of cantankerous opposition sold out…’ ~ out of Context
‘after a period of deprivation aggravating the lens of emotional compulsion driving us ahead into madness with or without obvious markers along the way whether it be an actual path or an idealized aversion to probability considered viral now as virtuous trend not oblivion can waste all the best efforts of men and their counterparts in the continuum of cycles metaphorical and material as this universe embraces all movements as long as there is still motion revealed… we can only contain so much until our heads explode into their constituent atomic strands and strings of theory passing presupposed wavelengths and bandwidths on the assertion that this is THE right way…’ ~out of Context
‘what can one measly point of view say about the world in flames with trumped up charges lethargically-blaming the people for their own hate when heat and fury of rasping coffin lids closing seem as infectious if not ask quiet the grooves of the ornate and gilded frames of the weightless grams in digitally-conveyed animated faces blinking prettily and seductively as if we were touching through as many screens with death grins smiling?… i face the same swarm of itchy unwashed wasting as a good variety of our populaced-and-interwoven as fear gets to be a panic-driven mind killer breathless yet screaming out for more distractions to ventilate that sickness inherent since earlier plagues became of us a parasite we have grown so used to being evacuated from house and home where the heart is hollow..’ – out of Context
‘long before the extreme industrial pulse and push by any means necessary and even when that meant covering up the truth as it was eventually figured out to be when innocence was the target of the ignorant idealization and also its arch-enemy behind all those closed off doors of perception only later begun to be opened in the phase of counter-cultural gutter-punk death-hippy aesthetic as music fought harder than humanity to break on through to the other side though always to be a questioned commodity to the establishment as society’s surrounding tirade possessive shroud of blasphemies comes to fruition shortly after an age terror earmarked by the blade of bombs blows of the heads irradical radioactive pulsating glow-in-the-dark shade of scary shooting new definitions of atomic age threats then light up the nightmare…’ ~ out of Context
‘…as not all daze can be woven the same, the only stipulation is the madness that holds us back while alternately launching “the joke” in shrapnel materialized over our heads, and sharply into the skins of those soldiers blindly thrown forward to foregone conclusions a sacrifice chosen as collateral by the situation in which the novel trivial absurdities seem closest in popping any balloons we determine and terminally set ourselves within, either as casualty to “the joke” or the caustic punchline now floating about unseen until ˜it strikes out loud and we all fall down into the ashen once again. Whether we are left hardened items of statuesque tragedy terrorized by the very real repercussions generally considered as death becomes us, unable to be truly in control of our own meaningless endings…’ ~Out of Context
divinity made us digest the manifestations of a source whose silver cord from the motherboard is as vital an accessory as any hairs teased or plucked out of the visions beheld by few but those bodies eclectic enough to run through their river of life thoughtful of the safety switches that dismantle a system like this so thoroughly-upheld because otherwise total chaos is not reliable or so can be said by creators of a differing strain at odds because of the pain of elements like queer variables stacking up odds cracking the compulsion of worry and dread that possesses our souls for a collected sort of flawed creatures crawling as much as trolling the passersby whom trash each other by the age old rarified stench for which we find ourselves used to much like the climate and its ever-changing …