the high-grounds of nothingness. Breathing into space, an attack/guide to the crisis.

The Crisis, knows everything within the bounds of sanctified and/or nullified pleasantries.

This is personified, it hides in layers of guilt.
like a space age, indigo-saphire like, wheel of circumstance.
round and round, the wedge in between silence and everything.

escape plans for free,
they can be drawn on posters, made into posters,
kinkos for the new ages, staple centers, centers,
a masked community for organized duality -
money and mercy.

Minus last paragraph,
voided out in compensation, experience and action
are taking over the fight to stand up for your rights.
be gentle and kind,
it reads on a poster.

if there is one position to take, the infinite source
of destiny lies within everything the universe touches,
it will rage on,
soaked songs, symbol and context burn heavily,
smoke filled visions of a future melody
an apocalypse will dance to.

Fine and fresh, two headed demons,
eyes the color of wet leaves over a seasoned forest,
it looks beyond, it dangles on a chain-link of
steady, sturdy, ruptured memories.
the lowest voice you can ever imagine.

emotions are like a vagrant holy man,
the traverse, idea of an image, rally the warriors,
and then peacefully disperse into the grounds
and childish play,
of innocence and backyard parties made out of clay.

this is a work in progress.

Ideas about popular culture

Lyrical smut as lyrical prose, + let’s all be whiskey drinkers.

For the sake, as half hearted as you once claimed to be,
Digestion in the forefront or as a reminder,
These Emmy nominations always get the best of me.
The work of a genius,
Write a book about your struggle.
The engrossing appetites of the love lorn ( because when I grow up there will always be bright shiny things surrounding my own remorse and confusion about)
What exactly is “reality”
Time tells and Everyman waits.

A purgatory kind if lifestyle,
Like fashion magazines in September.
If everything is autocorrected then what do we really stand for?


Rebranding Trust and Truth, a guide to living and loving in the post world of post(isms)

Chivalrous Racism can be a thing,
just like guns for kids.


Effects of Manifestos
Plagued intention for the want and willing.

If people who bought education made a statement, the title could be:
All is fair in Gross Political Failures and Non Committal Forms of Death
(stacks and stacks of billions(airs)

If people who said but never thought, spoke and wrote, the title could be:
Let’s hold hands and not Fall down (but push ahead because we deserve everything)

If people who have ideas, but they are bad ideas, the title could be:
Remembering a Life lived In Solitary Thought circa (before 1865)

If people who believed in Wartime Pastimes and Undulated Torturous Devices, the title could be:
Savage Confection, My Sugary Goodness to Hell and Back.

If people of the time became aware (less indulgent), title could be:
Pop Thought and Strange Sideway Glances: On the Roads to more Positives and Less Negatives
Seeking Asylum in my Great Big, Gold Plated Bathtub
Reaping and Sowing Never Scared Me
Talking is Just Like Doing Only No One Listens
If God were Me and I were Him (a more philosophical approach to all my misdeeds and delinquent pieces of guilt and sorrow I share and but to not care to attach myself to)


The Future (1)

Silhouette for hire,

just that, think and speak like the machines do.

The Future (2)

Love and prophesy,

nearing hope, then devastating resources to see more about hope.

The Future (3)

Hapless intend,

for the unintended, you and your will most likely be glossed over in the rain.

Rested Development

Power and Policy.
(august 2014)

to begin,
Just look at all these shiny nickels.
once, twice, worth more than a life can breathe.
swing, soar, divine ruin in a notion gone wrong.
solitary confinement is a brass ring on a cold summer night -
disconcerted efforts at sharing and caring.

and then renounce,
Pay close attention to the merit and solidity of a riot.
Jesus arriving in suites and train wrecks.
(imagine in a picture frame the face of an angel)

to pronounce,
devastated honor, there will always be honor.
A context in which to live and die.
(imagine in a picture frame the face of an angel)

imagine for a second, in a picture frame, the face of an angel.
uphold, the tiny light, lit and leaving in a trial of tears,
the rest, to rest upon, in the wake of a bright young mind. 

(rising above these wrested times) 

songs from the nineties (youth in pensive revolt)

rudimentary sidestepping (on getting older in a time gone by)

take in strides, an eventful moment,
glory in the Summertime as always.
Full of might and spite.
the longing of that past has come full circle.

rudimentary sidestepping II (on seeing things as older, than time)

live long prosper tip toe,
on grass there are blades longer, sleeker, slender.
on hallow forms of the mind, ones we do not talk about,
there are reasons safer, stronger, seeker.

rudimentary sidestepping III (on my time, as your time)

please, let me lament in silence.
there are songs from that nineties that will always remain
and forever stay in my heart as both clarity and clutter.


The secrets of success, the life and times of clever sociopaths.

So there is this thing called a tech bubble, not to generalize.

Also there is this thing called a free market …

Graciousness! (life style series, part 2 of —-) Not Branding but Becoming


Sometimes in the dead of night, in the slow of winter, in the haze of these long lived summer days there are moments on the mind, an unkempt reeling of sorts. The wicked wonders in which an army of strays lack, leach, prey and partake on your fellow friend, your peer, your one, you yourself. Stop. Run amok are the tyrants sent to rely on petty and stupid, they seek in you consciousness, roused by light and love and the illustrious ideas of original idea. Stop.

Sweet and salty is a revolution of a peaceful mind in the often cited, prominent part of the playground. Therefore keep playing.

We know all about these tricks.
We see the depth of nothing, churning out shards of broken treaty and remorse.
We have in us a stranger tide, ripping apart oligarchy and alike - sorry. (oligarchy maintained by and for all indignant and disingenuous, not necessarily encompassed to the rulers and taste makers - you know who you are)
We will be ok.

Graciousness: like the light at the end of the tunnel, a wind tunnel always and forever in my mind will there be an onslaught of rush, rollicking to the forces beyond my control, beyond your control, beyond and for good reason. Keep practice patience and penance at close range, your heart of hearts, relegated to the mass anomaly of sick and sudden will prevail in a time of undone, if only for and as a result of the pure, polite goodness we always knew you always had.

Be well, chin up; make your mark on this side of gracious folly.


Agents of Hearsay: Unsolicited Biographies of Politicians turned Role models of the 21st Century.

Values! (a life style series, part 1 of —-) Branding for the homely and dishonest tastes we all want to swallow but never admit to)

(to begin)

Take notes, read lists, have a go at something other than tired hunches and believable stacks of paper sitting on the low lit, norm-core distinction that rests between class and zealotry.

This can be like a bullet point type of situation:

· begin, release, relinquish (control, horrific ideas of the past you as a future ping in the grand design of a “grand scheme”)
· maintain foresight (I will become, all at once, or nothing at all, because living a life solely with the purpose of me in mind is not at all like the cherished choke holds that wisdom would merit)
· invite friends and fury, see who prevails.
· maintain a healthy does of social media meritocracy when and if and for however long possible.
· meditate on a life lived in context - you see these shining lights everywhere?
      - if yes. You have decided on a value system dedicated to the low level idiocy of like minded, one sided shifts of attitude that ultimately have nothing to do with a common good and more to do with total bullshit (definitions decided upon, readers use discretion)
       - if no. Seek patience, rest assured on nature (and other ideas of that nature, no other words of advice at this time)


Place These High Times in the Corner of your Memory

(say this as if there is a deep inner sense of calm, the voice of wisdom is raining down upon your sour logic and deviant mind frame. This is a smoke free zone.)

reads the sign that says so, or says something, or likes to pretend that
the word vapid, like common status of the status quo, is complete non-sense.

Non, in the sense of ignorant. Ignore.

Ignore in the sense of, a moral majority that does not matter.

If I am out of line, please tell me where I went wrong. In these wonted days of travesty like majesty, like a certain will of the people, or will of a “company”

made up of small tokens of appreciation, to be donated to higher forms of self and regret.
they can later doll out as advice disguised as life saving forms of monotony, disregarding hypocrisy, null and void.

Void is the word to keep in mind.

Poor Choices as Positive Agents of Change

Being All and Saying All. My dystopian Urban City, Sprawling (Cinephilia) Complex Is Coming True. This can be whatever you want it to be.

Today I choose reverence.
Party foul,
as always but with slight and sedentary emotion/remorse.
Conceit like a risk taker.
Risk, Taker.
That means that you will always and forever know the line between favor and balance, poor and harmony, me and you, you and yourself.
These were supposed to be marked as the good old days.
Instead, a red marker - crossed out across a feverish intent to sell.
I’m buying my own recovery, my own checks and balances system to install.
(That’s legal now a days, yeah? )

With or without Parental Consent should be a dynasty.
A new age for a new look, for all the kids getting all the inheritance.
(They will surely make good decisions for themselves, the well being of,
with the thought and care and compassion, acting as the best possible forms of life, in this fair city of ours; this fair nation of ours, just like their elders)

I’m not worried a thing.

Smite, Smitten. Wait What?

Someone just said to me but, I guess asked me, how do you mend a lonely heart? 

So I’m like, huh? me? I thought I was just emotionally closed off?

(All correspondence concerning matters of the heart will be filed within the “smite, smitten” context from here on out. maybe that will help)

And or, significant want, just nothing at all then - -

perhaps there is dignity inside a bottle,  a jar that has with it the seeds of many,  many,  a thought gone by. 

tell these tall tales at night —- 

incongruent with one thing or many, devious are patterns aligned with shade.   

(I’m genuinely confused about this women against feminism blog…)