Tuesday, April 14, 2009

middle earth mush

a stark filled full in lack of preparation,
thousands of tumbls blank bringing in late sleep,
the ages I've been to come,
in anticipation and expectations
comes sweat drawn from last nights dreams of
a family's grouping suicide
one left behind, one willing to die
idiocy, I am surrounded in a lack of inspiration.

cohesive thinking
conscious streaming thoughts
left to a creation of forms
forming light and emotion
a desolate disturbance of sight and sound
projection into a prolific state
the idea of silent art I cannot accept
consuming sound noise vision, my conceptions

dead bodies on a plane of buzzing picture creating flux
annoyed to know this is not where I want to be
needing casts, purging any limbs of use.
swallowed into any heaven offered my way

picking open the heavy contrast of my dream state
the blood covered nightmares strike high
casting clay over the thin corrugation of cardboard
where you lie at night, where you lie with me
conjuring you into desperate sex

when eyes draw closed
I bear the courage of every bit
of matter in springs mating,
in relaxed muscle
I bear every young beings will to let
imagination overshadow over-thinking
your patronage in my deep eyes is winding,
knotting your sinew threads a thick obtuse
as one with each night line

I will dose with any nervine I see fit
consuming an eaten away belly
digesting thick matter
absorbing as much nutrition
from afterthought into cell sponge
blood cell depletion
right count
right count
strong count
counts lying in black ink tally
stacking self deception

grating away forearm flesh,
a primary life force leaking from
an expelled hearts dusty shadow.
every drink, clean water mimics a hungover
dark day on the taste of alcohols tongue.

eighteen years of ballet for grace of a madman
point posture trading in for a seized bodied ribcage implosion.

pause on the left ventricle
outsmarting your insula
reprogramming your reptilian thoughts

a carrier for rapid eye movement
a motion for the charmed ones
transitioning today away from my subhuman love life
to something a dim lit frontal cortex
would choose for governmental numbness

dead planking the world,
when I can't even control my atoms in tension.
depth planting my roots,
a charcoal haze to reach you in my day lit vision.
I am internal.
bark spun growth wrapping tight
around your throbbing lust.

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