out of Context -‘…stray signals of knowledge as anxious to understand us if we can absorb this growth that compels the bodies we inhabit like fiends forward perhaps driving an inner motive we barely consciously relate to being not the creatures we expected with bro-magnon swagger and language that has gathered a momentum as gods’ vomit upon others in elements contracting as though they too do not matter, repercussions as they gather the motions of waves in ring and shatter amongst that flotsam and jetsam that clatter and din splash in spatters of blood set with the cryptic writing they are adrift in this sea of a consciousness devoted to witness devolution as society’s brain batters into some submission the collective tribe of the most substance and wealth…’
‘…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…’
‘hyperbully (hyperbole)’
“losers with lasers,
using the violence of science
to assume the worst,
attain dreams and wishes,
no matter how vicious,
asserting their ideas as truth,
promoting their lies as proof…”
‘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.
‘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
are there thoroughfares where our pro-ducted trivial fashioning becomes its own a life and thus turns a concept into reality? a place lodged in imagination somewhere between the oh-so classically-defined shadow where the subconscious dark matter of all perception uses jagged little barbs as set of cilia particular peculiarity parallel to what may be a wise experiential decision that as humans digesting the real further can confine in our passions onto the “knowns-and-unknowns” found in playgrounds and battlefields that soon consist of those marked parameters which contain us within oblong finality that either burns or breaks down in this decidedly unappealing journey of once we get to a certain narrowed idea of a ‘what it is we think life is truly to us’ as then the individuals who perceive any duality at all, that as rite of productive constructive …