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streams experiment 1
but it is my highway the highway men the highway brood the highway stream the highway hypnotism mocking adjustments to mirrors and seats. of course you’ll be uncomfortable. it’s summer time on the coast and your AC sucks the gas out. alternate. take in the view. show the road you knew what you knew.
91798-31407
“Gentle (gentle) dew (sleep) as (lay) soft (straight) as (soft)
sleep (to wake)
A (that) sleep (silence) that (in) lasts (darkest)
forever (darkness)
In (dew) silence (as) and (tears) in (dripping)
darkness (out) lay (from)
To (that) wake (soul) up (the) is (fall) never (up)
Tears (never) that (lasts) fall (forever)
straight (in) from (a) the (hole) soul (from)
Become (the) the dew (sleep)
dripping (and) out (is) from (become)
the (as) darkest (the dew) hole…”
selective memory.
time is of the essence, but I remember nothing of being born again… the crude matter of getting home was tiring my thoughts beyond compare… a turn of the wheel later, and the sour moments drift away as the door closes behind me… the compounded feelings of satisfaction and sensory overload were consuming a place that I could not lie to, the part of me that was not yet dead, and the rhythm of my heart kicked in at gradual steps behind my movements… layers of clothing fell away as I began to reach at the knobs to the bathroom, to relax inside a warm bath, and house my hindered state into a watery mercy… it hurt to ache this bad wanting nothing more than to bathe away stressful sources of my own decay… my mind was feeling this …
the 666 words
out of Context;
‘the tunnel grows sharp as it inserts and asserts itself in the anatomy of gesturing symbols… they twist apart and leave their striking point in the conscious plane… it changes from mouth to mouth for a chance to stick somewhere that it has never been before… a furious freak out that we can’t see as deftly as we need… under the surface, it mates itself sparingly with torrential outpouring of restless emotions…’
the coundensing of rhyme. the riddle divine.
Nine times…nines times, I have fought for these threads. the clerk nodded, absentmindedly.
seemed to agree with every word I said at-large. clearing his throat, he calmly replied cautiously.
What trouble would you have, sir? my defiant stand made him quite clearly affected, a silent stand.
the lone vagrant diatribe cautiously relents into the darkness of his forgotten intellect, a swine standing. there where a man just stood, relenting against a painful system infecting him. his twisting made leaps into the insecure nature of impact, as the crutches fell away to the floor, and he faced thunderous approach into a concrete surface. the flames ignited through a human anger flew and spewed to the floor. the scream at the end left no doubt at the intrigue in the wake of the apparent. Did you like that, cripple? he was not afraid to …
dribble the spittle.the perilous riddle
this tainted toss oozes lust from the crust
a dark dismay apparent with the skill of a ferret
sneaking the belittled bites into those filthy minds
what powers these mortals think they are squandering
from afar the sight seems wrecked, ramshackle, and split
the terror enters the secretions of the mob as the feelings pour
bleeding like crying for the benefit of more and taking less time spent
tinkling against the pavement becomes a game of thieves on high as fiends
totally aware that they taint and mash our dreams into the pie of belief and cream
bought, buying, sold are tastes of exquisite resonance as the thoughts dance forsaken
expanding fists into hands of needy remorse for lost wages tossed aside for the personal
war of the skill masked by faith in crime of life stealing met by chosen ones in the street level
size of force to manipulate the …
there is no tolerable commitment Here.
out of Context;
‘waving black flags in the distance, signaling to the others that the fray is still yet in motion, and moving to plunder the next method within this tempest of madness…’