Thursday, September 3, 2015

They Think I illmatic Cause of Talsorian Games

Your reality is like my video game
I play with pen and paper
There's some constraint
But rules are dropped and raised

My video game, does only what it's told to
There is no minus 1$ dollar swift-talk
No pouch of unendable mendables
And with no third-eye, little imagination

But you're locked in, some fantasy cell
With key.. while masturbation has lost it's fun
And in city the fantasy is cyberpunk
And in country the science is magic

While in city, it's all criminal
And in country the devil prowls
Through and through
Through and through

So play your cyberpunk and be the illmatic
And I in country time will idyll away with magic
But you got to keep them seperated
Any city folk around will have to toe the line
And country folk will need to sing the dime

Because in the country we ain't heard of machines
As the Or-i come to claim your souls
Whereas in the city you better act somebody
Or the Gold will forget your guns

So, we have a forgotten peace, nobody knows we're arguing
Because Reality's don't always win
Nor does dogma completely fit in with future dreams.
No, the mighty thing that justifies beginnings is
Evolution through trying good things for you to do
For adoption is like adaptation for those of you whom think
Wherein only the meek and fleet will ever win global catastrophe
If you call rank survival, "winning", and small furry things the beast!

Friday, August 28, 2015

!!!tHe Super And Incredible Datsons Of Maxim!!!

I sleep in until 6:30 where I find machine running
Step-mom working for an hour
And a stupid 5 million dollar house
With it's radio that took 10,000 years to invent
It's lightbulbs that took 100 failures before working
And the milled lumber shipped using 100 horses
With imported clover and kentucky grass perfected by 10 plant ecologists
Raking it for twigs from the wind, I rake dirt
From unseasonally warm climate change
That's changed with respect to time, too,
Dry summers get dryer, wet springs getting wetter
While the deserts expand and lakes get larger.

I sit in some sort of pose between Hyde and Hulk
Trying to calm, rage?

no.

But just so I can start hearing again.
For sometimes the world is too much with me...
And it does turn me less green, less apprehensive

So I sit in some sort of pose between Hyde and Hulk
cross-leggedly listening... feeling, tasting, seeing, smelling
the infinity of time without space, not dead but still
Like the Peace I am wishing would fill my heart!

Why Not!?

I was born this way
With ears to hear my breathing with
And nerves to feel my pulse
Leaving me with time and focus of needing less, wanting less
And probably working less so I can spend more time on family.

My dogs only rest when they die the dreaming of sleep
My awakening about killed me once, door after door was shown
And much the same before, I was not idle living the idylls of country life.
Things to be fixed, things to be written, and things to be read.

The kingdom of real heaven is not known here.
Only elderly men with volumes forgotten in unwritten diaries
But having found their lonely and many-roomed house of rememberance...
 ...lonely and manifold...
Sometimes I wonder why I've never noticed how dark it could be in here
What with my preoccupation with light.

No, the kingdom of real heaven sorts out the stars
more concerned perhaps with panspermia than taxes
more concerned perhaps with truth than control
more concerned perhaps with pragmatism
With grace only bequeathed to poor people.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

It's 9:30 and a Breeze is Blowing Through

I was twitterpated yesterday Morn,
Disassociated and dis-at-ease
When inspiration gripped and throttled me
Over and over until I was destroyed In waking dream
Like some unriddled message unwrapped from an unboxed lock and unlocked, finally free
It was me with their pills and their paint, their paint and their pills.
Needless to say, quite a shock, and so I had a drink,
Toasting A.L.L-  ALL Life Loves

A stoney dance in the rain continues
Over stoney Earth below stoney bombs
With their pills and their paint, their paint and their pills
Hybridizing mutants to come through with their Ubermaus
Seems progressive, and it is... to breed compassion and understanding
And experiments continue, what is wrong with you Breakout the computers,
decipher the code, prospect your future
Now if time would just hurry along... only shortened his life within 99% confidence
Replace lithium, replace the flouride
With their pills and their paint, their paint and their pills

It's 9:30, and paradise has been paved with a parking lot
I wonder and wander to the gasoline and cigarettes, growing bitters
They aren't doing well, the mead is much sweeter, and better mulled
It will be better tomorrow when it ages more and mellows, too.
And tomorrow will see no life eternal, merely time without space
Living in the hearts and minds of rememberance;
And so I give a hug to empty air or tear to dust
Knowing that Jupiter's rising is but a complicated game.
Knowing that Civilization is four-square-star-fire
Knowing that is what killed me having lifted their paint and pills
From the hand of those playing games, mocking God with their money, power, or respect.

If quantification all comes down to nothing... we've found rest in Satire;
Dying faster and faster till holes are rent and unmendable.
And then Who will you civilize, then.

It's 9:30, and grave business of living keeps nature dying in Nature Preserve
Fenced off beyond the pale while the D triple prime fences us in;
And our fire shrinks to passivity

Speaking of passive fire...
I knew traveling the galaxy is expensive
But for crying out loud Cadarache, you're too fat to fit on-top the LFTer!
Let's hear from Skunkworks, if it's not all glam.

It's 9:30 and I got drunk yesterday,
Seems a shame not to with all the people dying to live,
And all our dead probably wishing they could cat one right now.
Don't think of purple skunks.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015


Worlds of Earth Roll Like Stone while the friction of fission keeping them alive with criticism of indepenence keeping independent hopes their own.

Pappa was a rolling stone
Mamma like an atmosphere
And kid and I were like the stars
Before we journeyed into core
Where the hairs are split endlessly for eons or ages
slapping our feet with every progressive step

I live between papa fission and mama fusion
As fungus.
I am that which grows beneath your feet
As symbiote.
I help worlds whom crystallized grow freedom
As liberty.
I work universe mirrored
As I help, you see

The Masons have travelled space and time
They know life exists beyond our gravity's well.
But distances are far, and we're so very little,
That like dust carried on wind... we too are pelagicly slow
Only traveling where we like or liking what we know.

Was there a question, I review
Their penultimate isn't my quintessential
For I live in the fire
And I live in the air, earth, etc....
Having drunk the rain in communion with fission and fusion

If there was query it's answered by this advice,
Don't try to sell bottled water, even when it's cool.
Or I might just trip on down to creek, and start bottling that
For your blueline fantastic.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

Starships and Starfish

Scientists say we came from fish.
They made this computer
They made my car run
So, THEY must be pretty smart fish.

And if Real fish reside in ocean basin
While fish like us live in gravity's hold
Swimming in air, there must be up there
Fish that swim between stars untold

Outerspace beings that live in spaceships
Mining chunks and eating dust of nebula
That drifts free for the taking.
Plundering like us on gravity's ocean
Except within thin limits, top skimming...
Worlds' meniscus of gravity's holding.

Happily driving starships across all of it.
With fusion power like any common star
Scooping up dust, fusing, making grid iron gold habitats
Out between stars apart from climatic disturbance
of earthquake, blaze, hurricane, or rain.

Starfish peer at us with powers of the mind
saying, "he's too deep," meaning our gravity.
They may build submersible one day.
We -black smokers ecologies of oceans deep
Us, the whole human race, whom burn fossil fuel
Whom smoke our cigarettes and gasoline
Like some black vent in deep ocean somewhere.

Promethean thinking -fire- hallmark of tomorrow
Thinking... we do some, but without fusion are lost
Never to crawl the land erect but for blink of eye in geologic time
While remembrance of promise and possibility will burn forever.

Should we fail to find or create rudiments of understanding and compassion
We'll burn in hell with our fission bombs and fission planet
Continuing to live like said fish at ocean vent eternally pelagic,
Lost from the light of poetry.

Saturday, August 8, 2015

The Once and Future King --OR-- You Are Victor if Physically Strong, Mentally Awaker, and Morally Straight-

after they're done with me
They'll come for you...

With all their drugs or shock therapy

After they're done with me
They'll come after you

With all their shock therapy or voyeurism

If one thing I've learned, there is no normal
No flock to hide in
Not in the day of DNA and facial recognition

As... you're so fond of reminding me everyone is an individual
As... I'm mocked for being aN Individual by some of those closest

After they're done with me
They'll come after you

With all their voyeurism or lies

If one thing I've learned, we're spirits having human experiences
No ultimate reality in the narrative of fiction on faux news or rumor mongering

As... you're too busy to simply sit and listen
As... I'm so busy sitting and listening, witnessing everything come full circle

After they're done with me
They'll come after you

With all their lies or secret feelings

If one thing I've learned, they can't win for the crooked eat their souls
Know the liar lies to theirself and feed that way, too,
Like a statician finding proof of an outcome

For worlds are more about than dying
Or having money, power, or respect
Worlds don't need more successful people, look how screwed up it is!
That is your rolemodel...
We work hard for our own destruction like one Donald Trump,
Whom would demonize himself if it meant getting elected to President.

Lionize all you like the good, the faithful...  they seem judgemental
Lionize the one percent...  they seem destructive
Lionize the tool...  they seem overpriced
Unless we have little and do good anyway

After they're done with me they'll come for you

Because they're worms of doubt or snakes of lies
Sucking their teeth lest they reveal their vile soul

And you'll be free to die for your community
But not much else, lest you take note...

Free your ass, and your mind will follow