Problems Reseating a Printhead

humble demeanor gone as the spastic flake of snow falls into that vast abyss to disappear on a forest floor as needs send signals attempting to enrich the soil through potent moisture as it evaporates, the trails are covered with fellow flakes all dropped out of the game we play these things incarnate trying to intrigue us with webs Here woven together out of the happenstance fine filaments on the vibration of strings breaking down the cosmic simple curves with complex lines as odd lights fly, and this enlightenment that warps the darkness of far-away distant minds who can believe they are distorting themselves to reach objectivity when a humble sensitivity reveals it as pursuit of strictest control in glorifying their authority… those ready to plummet are convinced of the lostness within them even as others would perceive another rare glimpse inside through insights dividing the practical individual from the madness of the creative drive whose urge edges closer through the random acts of abused flesh attempting some defense of a private kind, holi-dazed glaze over all eyes of the blinded can perceive tugging at the violence a cyanide Christ and his devil bunnies queer with their lazy approach empty by rote as the friendly getting of gifts is meant in rejection of shit whose castles have built the facade as gross, and epic at the glowing atrophy of life as the smiling infant born and raised eating the same shaped fecal candy forms as assigned by the corporate lies that have gotten so rich and fattened like another lamb made to slaughter the strong as a laughter gathers conforming disaster at the unholy masters’ feet of solutions insoluble at that insolvent seam screaming for a good lord god to hear them against the six walls wailing… so many scattered perspectives collecting as a general swarm buzzing about the gossip passed around as news of import where maggots do not dare as the flies scavenge and scrape by on the pieces, a cursed blessing winds down where the loud ones die without a sound, and the carcass feeds the ground as much as the burrowing germs that dig and churn under the skin during decomposition of imaginary kingdoms dissolved…

Thanks, khet.

Posted by :\_khet on April 20th, 2014 in blogging, my art & dreams, p for Periclitate..., r for Rheme..., rants & raves, world at large. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.

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