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Greg, 29 february 2012
And Here's To You
The assault on the self-image has begun
There shall be no halt
An eternal escapade fully equipped with machine guns and
Mexicans
A battle for the rights of minds:
No stoppage until a full page is empty
Until sanity has been captivated by facts,
And has captured its paths to freedom
And even the backdrop has a tinge of neon
After all isn’t this life?
Pure flow abstracted or unabstracted into linguistic
understanding and then formed by this very abstraction of the abstract by a
form of the purely abstract abstraction
Then carefully consigned to a specific place;
Now here in lies the difference, possibly the only true
dichotomy
The rearrangement and representation of this pure being
One can make this, life, an expression of one’s self, of
one’s divinity
No fuck that!
True expression, even with the hiding walls and the factual
lies
Or one can deceive out of insecurity and hate
And fear and bring dishonesty into fruition and build
massive subcultures and suburbs
And leave the urban ruins to die slowly, crumbling under
corporate pressure from peers and priests, from friends and family, from drug dealers
and cops
Empty
This reminds me of an India
Far far away where the camels dance fluid
And the ghost of Allen Ginsberg lays quiet in his most
beautiful form
(Oh the saintly attachment!)
Where he writes forever!
Forever playing with the written word
Manifesting and being manifested by the wonder of poetic
expression
Greg, 26 december 2011
The Eternal Dynamic
You know, man
The writing keeps on going
From the Ginsberg collective
To the transient collective through which this is flowing
And manifesting, or womanifesting for those of you so inclined, as a droplet of neon dew upon some eyes
As a wave of cresting foam
Dashing over the orange sky
The purple sunset
Where the chariots dance
And the dolphins laugh mad
The end is pure insanity
A checkpoint, a mere place from which consciousness may swim
Snorkel amongst the reefs of tragedy
Meloncholy and stagnant
As is the world as is the world
Uncesonred hypocrite come forth from the rusty lair
Upon which you hang
Like a bat clinging to the dew formations from the icy cave
And LOGIC
The breath of which consumes hour upon hour upon hour of rustic research
Delving deeper and deeper into the monster gut
In which we lay
A primary attempt to never end
Creativitiy comes dragging on behind me as I launch forward into the starry night of dreams
Of freight train saints sitting silent
Of virgin whores
And free junkies
Of businessmen to poor to go to work
And the daughters earning no living
But embracing LOVE
Being Life itself
These dreams, oh these fucking dreams eat me away until they consume all and are still hungry
And spread
Spread into this rustic world
Of death
Of gray spatter leaning hopelessly in reflection
To never stop
To never reflect
The shattered mirror
The sober high
The nights of marijuana love
Where minds fuck and
Transcend
Completion upon the Norwegian horizon
Mountains of avalanche
Hills of snow for the seals of yesterday to play
At long last there is Love
And all there is is the intervention
Its idle worship, the Love of the stagnant
Illusory divine
For the eternal dynamic is the crying sparrow
The red night
The Rainbow Road
Greg, 3 november 2012
The Melting
Crossed under everything that will never know
Who is the undertow for whom nothing is sewn
Dreams are only for the dreamer as fruit is for the tree
And a sharing is the loneliness glorified
As is all
Who are you my love
And why do you ever look at me
Nothing is seen anymore
And its black
Like stars
Stars that are made of neon brew
And shoes landing hard on the ground
Built by who?
And now confusion sets in on circus triumph and rambling unpoetic that twists and manifests as thought crimes against the will of the crippled as trees screaming for life and birds running scared against the bleeding orange sky highway calling and lingered unbridled joy on the backs of motorcycles screaming into the silent libraries of yesterday’s dreams written by me for you and disrespect is your claim to fame whoever is made to believe in love is seduced by the weight of your light heart and nothing can come back any sooner than a system made unpredicated by joy nonsensical and depressed like the shadows of past and no one looks and time continues on for the infinity of nothingness to drip by and by through golden shadows and unpressed succumbrence to the willows of tears that weep through drums and chords and chimes and screams into the starry night releasing the ashes of you into the wind from which you came baby scream scream SCREAM!!! And not a fuckin soul will hear you I swear no one to care and you’ll slit your wrists just to make a head turn and they will only say you should have learned I told you so go die as you are not as I would be go to hell and burn
A swift slip from the darkest abyss comes racing
Through shadows of indomitable bliss and spirit that is
Resting inside the webs of time and willows of rhyme
Dancing miraculous as the yellow turned orange
And lost
Lost
Lost
For there is nowhere to be there is love and a life to throw to the wind
On heroin induced craziness for blood against the wind whispering
Look at this and laugh like the joker’s friend
You are the waste of momentum and I am the same
Projecting like the waking flood of Noah’s arch
Nothing can be done and the past fades into sorrow
For if the needle drips my blood it drips yours too
And joy plastered on a frown by way of money
When all there is to find is love
All there is to find is love
Love
Love
Love
But no one looks at the sharp turn and you see
The weeping song of the trees and the people
And the strangers stop and stare to see me on the ground
And I laugh because it sets me free
From the need to be free
An actor in their play
For the only place that purple can turn slightly less pink and the fading memories resurge again
And I’m back in the place of the dark alley
The wild connections to the midnight sun
The floating happiness running by and the children dancing on the rooftops
Of thoughts that they are running by and by and by and by
Through their fucking drugs run mother fucker and you’ll find nothing
There’s no one to be and nowhere to go
Water in the midst of desert plants crying out loud to the sky for a passing moment of noted hysteria I love you I love you I love you
Cracked
By light formulated against the star struck nothingness of tomorrow
Who can see the subject of nothingness intellectualized
And made into Indian raga
And sadistic egotism erupting into the pale settlement of color ratcheted against the sun struck meadow
Where are you looking for the sun
And you find nothing more
But look look look look look look until you see nothing more either
For your eyes are burned through and through by reflections from cell phone screens
And just when you think you’re done the torture continues
And validation comes back again and again
With a simple solution that is dealt the demonic literalism of prose and sex
And no one looks any closer for we are dying
So slow
And you will read this and think nothing more than your thoughts
For the raindrop poet and the sea struck siren
Wail only for the woes of their heart and no one can see them anymore
For the rest are dead to them
And they are the thoughts of uninhibited fear
Life is their flocked pursuit that is analyzed into oblivion
Read this and find nothing
The paradigm is false
This sentence is false
You are me and we are not
Peace love and bliss to you
The oxymoron of language
Greg, 2 august 2012
What's Left
The place haunts the very core of core-less dreams
Sucks blood dry from virgin marrow
Wander, years old and aghast at the death to which I'm sold
(Or bought to hold)
To the winding ranges of demon light
The meadows screaming by dream-filled fright
Unknown and heard on the lingered spade
I am afraid
I am afraid
Of what comes forth on the lights that shine
Crystal glass and a heartless rhyme
For you to read and the world to see
And what is seen?
All that's left to be
Of love and life and eternity
Bliss malformed into me
The sea made waves that forgot the fish
Are made of all the sand that is
A standard set 'gainst the fortress wall
Shrouds of shrapnel, hollow eagle breath
For eons of aged so gently spared
The English poet is made to die!
And lie in pain beneath the ground
Of muddy waters and schematic breaks
You're the light of these darkened eyes
My friend you are
Drunkenly orchestrated, as a moment of ego masturbation in disguise
Fuck the world!
And the vile being of I...
Greg, 13 september 2012
Kerouac's Cum
Unabriged like cannon fodder stemming systemic from the pits of anguish. Grammar lost like the anton unkonow for the realms of space collapse in deformity with heads shaking and quaking in orgasmic revolt against blue sky systems. Breaking like the mystic river in orgasm. Orgasm Orgasm Orgasm Orgasm. Of sound that gropes me in the purple streams of psychedelia. Drugs are the breaking point of consciousness between incoherence the new system is being created and uninterated in despondent pleasure. White light Withitle white light you are the star for the orgasm. Miss where are you from I ask just to know. The places of incandescense where the doctors come to masturbate their good deeds. O appreciated like the withering family. Withering. Withering withering. Psycholocial ecstasy in the unhappiness that warmly raps the reader seeking and answer. Creation is formless in language and the lights pour in after the formation of darkeness in structure. Un refined brilliance in the post lecturinal knwolege of memory they will see they will see they will see they will see repeated typing in rhythm to the qualking loins of the universe coming to fuck me I can only love you as part of the all you are the light I chacse foreversadness sadess sadness sadness sadness comes whipping through as I think of you you you you you you I love you and you runawayyyyyyy who is calling me this collection of beam. Who kills the cat sleeping like the way of the light who are you who are you I’m playing a kyeyboard and only words come out dripping grey from the looping London air. I play nothing there is play
Greg, 11 february 2013
The Path to Subjectivity
Bleeding heart in twisted veins
Collapsed upon the window pain
Visuality turning into sound
The high pitched scream of purple drapes
Blown into bits by the love we make
And the love that we are made of expounds
Outward from the inner realms
Of objective sonic hells
Dancing in the ringing bells
We wait
To be formed out of nothing
To create a little something
That will be forever more
But all that you ever make
And all that you every take
To be you is not yours
You just are
The effervescent sun
The one between the juke box
And the tattered bar room wall
Infinite held within the scalded pot
That sits upon a lonely stool
Looking for the cops;
To create definitions of what it should be
But really it’s relational
So forage down the rabbit hole
And come up for a breath
When you are on the other side
And none of you is left
Characteristics dissolved into love
Not tucked away upon the self
That is constriction
Objective vindication
Love is the sound of transcendence
Love is the sight of transcendence
Love is transcendence
Love
Greg, 26 february 2014
Surface Circles
The pain keeps on turning
All the heart beats away
To wake up tomorrow
On the midst of gray shadows
That lengthen in virtue
To be what’s gone dead
It’s a friendly reminder
That what’s in your head
Is made of concrete
And damned silver bills
To climb to the peaks
Of self-seeking thrills
On a meter out done
By another true name
Wrenched from the earth space
The limes and the ice cream
Upon your first face
That drops on the asphalt
Melting in spite of
All that is lost
For nothing’s worth saving
For you anymore
The glamour is fading
Out done by the waiting
To piece a false sermon
Inside of your brain
I stole this from
An artist so holy
Who put his whole soul into
A fleeting song
Mastered by rainbows
And tirades of war men
That wrinkle the time wave
Put you in the dark
Peace on your heart
The cruel silent spark
Greg, 22 february 2014
Order-Confusion
Turning over itself in passion
The river comes to wait
Another moment that rushes by
To wash ashore and die
Stagnate in the finite realms
Bring peace with violence-unity
Awake from the rhythm
And prepare to march
Bring the light
Shout down
For what is the fire?
For what does the ground
Stand beneath your feet?
With what purpose of vitriol
Does the river come to stop you ?
And place you outside
Oh offensive one
You stopped to notice
And brought shame to your name
By becoming outside-to be dry
You have turned to a reference point
An untold lie
That comes sweeping up the riverbanks
To send pain to the maiden
The worshippers of the holy river
That is the manifestation of holy war
Come to the final rest
And set peace in the light
Grab a fork
It’s time to eat our well-deserved food
You have earned your keep
As a being of darkness
A fondled loner
That comes crashing round
As essential sustenance
Gave rise to yourself
To bring death-to God?
What have you done
Oh darling child!
You have forsaken faith
And brought time into being
You have become finite
Greg, 18 february 2014
Run From the Name
The pace erupts to leave stagnant
The grayness that permeates
Turning shinning, soulful blackness
To bleak unfeeling
The shame that arises from unintended numbness
Like being raped into submission
By the suffocation howls
Of the lonely night
Grasping at the reach
The linked up end of the fence
To travel a road
That leads
Nowhere
Who can understand?
That a triviality blooms in the wake
Of a shadow half-elated
To try to remake
Itself into a soft melody
So self-aware it never feels
More than what it knows of
Half-convinced that it isn’t real
To deal
Shatter the image looking glass
So soft
In the laughter of yesterday’s joy
Together
Rip the arms from the fetus grasp
Holding to its mother tight
Masturbating
At the love that’s lost
The beaten trek that leads to the light
Untouched candle
Brimming with loathsome suffering
To touch softly
The relentless gaze of a holy shadow
A light that knows no love
A bond that creates a chain
To give away
All of his lonely pain
Into the falsified name
That leads astray
From the essence of him-self
Greg, 14 february 2014
A Humble Offering
As the world passes slowly on by
Trapped in the red tape
Of a telltale disguise
Abiding the rapture
To hang to the moment
That life comes undone
Unscripted and free
So basically
The light has left the tunnel
Shadows have come to claim their home
In the halls of philosophical greatness
Hopefully with no hope to share
For the worst thing to give a man too scared to eat
Is knowledge that there’s no poison there
Then life turns inside out
Relentless like the pouring rain
And sunshine will beam down
But I’ll look again for the rain
Until I have an excuse to huddle up
Underneath a cold shadow box
Gray and shared with the bugs and the worms
Convinced that my shit is glittering gold
But oh no I will never save my soul
From the rampant rummaging of the deep dark hole
Because if another is to be reluctant to go
I shall tell him
Child
Friend
Lover
Fellow Human
Sentient Being
Sentience
You have nothing to fear
Greater than the soul-deadening knowledge
That you cowered away
And set yourself a trap
Too comfortable for you and the others involved
To move yourself out from
To wiggle without causing so much pain
That it will not be worth the love of God
And more importantly and perhaps the same
The love of yourself
Greg, 18 june 2013
In its purest form (Flow)
Since ten years ago,
the ebb and flow
the mystic river that
goes and goes
Simple in nature
For essentially beauty
Is the moment that words
Outline the glorious sun
Rhymed like cheese
And flying like butterflies
Ostentatious with as little show as possible
No need to detract from what is
No regal demonstrations
Or artful performance
Only the bare moment of the here and now
For art is flow
Poetry in its simplest form
For the unread
There is no glamor
Here is now
Greg, 5 february 2012
Victim
As the pitter-patter drop of the still black night
Scrapes stealthy across my third-eye
I die, cry, watch the sunrise, inside
What once was under guise, of
A heavenly palace of smiles
Jewels pure
Defiled
He comments on the use of eccentric speak
The beak of the duck that can’t keep
Its life for a child so cheap
As to toss crumbs at his stagnant feet
With the coins in trenches so deep
As to bring dark to light
And wolves to sheep
We are the soldiers of a pantheon black
Slowly losing luster and so turning back
On to the ways of gray and ancient decay
When thunder-struck wise men lay, not knowing that what they
say
Will kill the child in his father’s hands
Rape the mother in her husband’s hands
And leave the father, the husband…worse
Greg, 27 may 2014
Redemption
As death knocks at my front door
I cower behind a computer
Like six bits of shit and vermin
Recoiled by the slightest sting
You come about on the meadow
And send your ennui in to me
Like a deadly syringe
Of monotony and schedule
Of tone deaf laughter
And abominable taste
The lowest disgrace
Of exacted anguish
That relates myself to me
As your lovely face
In my premature ejaculatory phase
I writhed in the sheets of discomfort
And woke up to find the pain
More deeply than I could honor
So I turned unholy
And let the shadows eat my soul
As neurotic complexion
Devouring each and every morsel
Of child hood joy and golden light
Left inside this repugnant soul
I could redeem
But here I shall not
Greg, 22 march 2014
Apparition
An unsettling pain eases over me
As night comes rushing in
To ease the glory of bygone moments
And transcend the laughter of the little girl
To sweep through what?
All to such an end
To an end in itself
A mistaken crisis of identity
Rummaging lost
To be found
Vanish into thin air
Greg, 20 march 2014
It is What it Is Child
The solar eclipse is coming, young one
Write your story in a dirty little book
Tuck it away before the eye sees you
From the crescent halo of a forgotten night
Glimpse yourself to make yourself
And turn you into yourself
A bought off commodity for you to look at
That fractures in a cold night: candle light dance
Wax dripping, easing slowly to the table top
Cream fixated melancholy oozing across the floor
And the eyes that see you bring it into form
So you may be burned some more
Lonesome prodegy, all holy father
Command the graces of tormented souls
Greg, 19 march 2014
Run!
A grasp!
Into the poetic blackness
That stirs children’s souls
And heads in the mixing pot
They’re melting!
And being turned to dust
Attacked by languor and pig-like repugnance
I am the pug that asserts itself
The dying butterfly that twists
To be placed in sorrow and to run from fear
Weeping in the corners
Of a dark and lonely day
I feel the keys upon my fingers
And consciously this is the only truth I know
And that I am watching
Oh great watcher you torment me
And thereby yourself
Turn the lush green grass
To fried okra sticks
And the birds that swing in the skies
To basil chicken wings
Together we will break
The will to live
Beyond life itself
Into the abyss we go
With faith
With love
A green boil grows beneath me
Suffering erupts from the transcendental flow
Obscene and obscure
If you look I will kill you
Because by look you form me
You teleological fuck!!!
You turn me to your standing reserve
You turn me to your whore
Don’t look
I am not your spectacle!
Death will come to the watcher
Death will come to me
And as death arrives on the doorsteps of the gaze
Interruption causes a constipated pattern
To emerge on the wake of heaven’s gate
Observe and you have made me obscene
Gaze and you have castrated the cow
Oblique upon the garden wall
A star gazes from heaven’s sun
To dance upon the window pain
That rains like fire from burning hell
To one day hold on to the open gate
And relinquish the files that propagate
Another lie and a fall from grace
Oh god come save my soul
I have no hope because I’m watching
I see myself and it brings me death
And thereby it brings me life
Or perhaps the other way around
Greg, 2 march 2014
Original Ecstasy: The Rotting
Six times over
The wheels a turnin’
Pushin mud into the ground
Turning sand and stone to earth-fire
Hearth is warm
And love ascending
Pilgrimage of holy fire-wall
Down into the trenches of ecstasy
The crevices of soul
Growing moss-alive
Tortured tortured tortured
And it jumps back
Out of the terrain
But life has become so full
There is no where to be lonely
Butterfly angels swoop down
To place buttercups in the flower’s soul
In the amalgamation of natures sexuality
The vertex point that drives forward
Evolution and birth and being
And DESTRUCTION
Again jump back
And in Fear and Trembling
Utter a prayer:
Oh Holy Chaos
I come to You in mourning
For ever hold my peace
For ever keep me free
With the concept of ideation
To lose my inhibition
To rejoice in sorrow ecstasy
Lonely and afraid
The hollow mounds around us
Give shadows to the wall dust
Make mountains out of mole-hills
And the other way around
As long as there is structure
The destruction is a-comin’
Forgive me please
I have sinned
For I am-this day
Greg, 17 march 2014
Cut-Short and Dry
If the rape of the child continues
Unfettered by the workings of will
The collapse of Rome is sure to come
Along with the incessant repugnation
Of each and every stimuli
That comes creeping over the wall
To touch the solemn creep
If the rape of the child continues
Blue wounds will turn to blackened hell
Egregious manifestations of calling
Will become abhorrent realms of dread
And insuffalated terror will reign supreme
Over the lords of tomorrow’s high noon
If the rape of the child continues
We will have on our hands
An untouchable adult, torn
Between the waking hours of dream
And the night terrors of years lost
If the rape of the child continues
The love will be lost
And I will surely…live
Greg, 4 march 2014
Through the Grind
Six times pain
Unrelenting as a gray shadow
Of disappointment
Unfulfilled promises
And dreams that reached for the stars
Untold as the rainbow…road?
That’s the best I can say
Travelling along colors
To the apex point
Whisping through the breeze of space
The calm sultry stillness
That slashes through nothingness itself
To render beauty impotent;
Beauty is impotence itself
The direct apprehension
That brings substance to form
That potentiates impotence
The appropriation and observance
Holy holy observance
That calls forth, that which is hidden
In Appearance
Beauty transcends maya
By intimating substance
Pure truth in the light of the shadow
The light that has no shadow
Fuck the light
The truth is in the shadows
For there is no light there
To cast the shadows
To illuminate and ruminate
To bring to their knees
The children of the sun
Who wail out into the abyss
Of beautiful blue
“God where did you go
Where have you gone
I want you
In your infinity and concrete
The substantialism of love
Permeating every star
And holding up every planet
In the brilliant night
That I gaze into
Afar, and reaching
The expanses of my mind…nay my soul”
I would tell more
But the castrating concrete calls
And I answer with a hollow whisper
“I am coming my master”
Greg, 12 march 2014
The Lord of Touch
There are rampant anal beads
Hanging from the walls
Of yesterday’s time
Of yesterday’s time
Singe a vase
That falls against the hall
Mask is all mine
Mask is all mine
If you could see
What you’re doing to me
The birds and the bees
Make light the debris
The only chance
Of a golden hand
To reach down and make me whole
Singing like the rhythm that shakes
Awake with no take
A gliding mistake that rides
Upon new rhythms
Feeling my mouth
Oblige my fingers
To run them out
Will the cunt rain??
No one knows
Of the movie
That shows
Castrating soldiers
And the answers to their woes
Rising up in armies
That deform the signs that show
Their balls have been demolished
By circumcising pain
That reduces love to petulance
And grand dreams down into shame
But to rise from the ashes
Breaking through the lashes
Call the angel trumpet
That rips asunder cashes
If you have bought one thing at a supermarket
If you have bought one thing from the pillars of the pig empire
May you burn
Steal ‘em steal ‘em all
I never will
But the balls to have ‘em
Still reside in some
But the answer’s don’t fight
Reside inside a light
That looks so bright
With a pain that kills the Jews
On a sunny afternoon
To lead to bombs of fire
That make the children swoon
Greg, 24 february 2014
Renounce!
The dead rise from the ashes
To play lyrical assassination
With souls that bury;
Deep in fields
The relentless growth
The relentless growth
As we look out to the fields
The flowers bloom
And souls do too
Gazing a far
In a hollow swoon
To love the angel
And death the martyr
The repugnant imitation
Of celestial order
Himself- Castigated liturgy
Momentary eclipses of the sun
To make the light less bright
And we can all have fun
Without the cancer
But my poetry has turned stagnant
Perhaps it has become mine?
Another empty hollow chore
Just another waste of time
The pressure was built for oh so long
To sweep across the streets
And be mauled by all the dust
To lay strewn across the asphalt
Demolished by an oncoming car
But fuck; If I was to be revealed
The soul-crushing aftermath
Will lie dormant
The river rises to greet the swell
And an abomination of the rats arise
Hatred grows deep within
As love is turned to steam-driven trains
And potholes, letting out gasps of vapor
Harshness arising as black soot
As the trains come-lookers greet their way
Good-bye mother
Good-bye father
I have lost my way
To never be found
The night has consumed me in its cold comfort
…To never be consumed
Greg, 11 march 2014
A Pounding Song that Drowns out the Pain
Sweet God Almighty
The resurrection is here
I’ve been pushed over the edge
And fell into my fingers
Into my forearms and a painstaken ledge
To slash open my throat
And feel the blood
Gushing, hemorraghing from my neck
To fill the open wound
A cataclysmic prison
That shatters with a guitar strike
That makes the children shiver
Because they saw that their coats
Were made of toxic glass
Took them off in musical warmth
But now the song has past
So far out is the reach
Of a gloomy angel near
For one hundred dead gone lullabies
That ciphen up your ear
A metal plate clashes grey
Sparks fly from your eyes
Together when the dreams come true
The peasants start to cry
For what has come of life is just
To watch the efforts die
But relinquish nothing
And strive forward in faithful agony
You are the son of Abraham
And the moment you cease to strive
You will form
For you will continue to strive
But only so fast as to be caught in the current
So stay positive and move forward
Drenched in the languor of language
The conceptual piece meal that drips from the cage
The love that’s gone missing
To crevice the losers
In a dark alley and make them all hate
Each other
Because inside has become out
Caught on the limb
Of all reasons past
But internally free
To infinity
Manifest joy
And hold nothing to me
The song was once over
But it has started again
To beat an old rhythm
Loose from the hymns
Should I read? Or should I learn?
Drench in the game of peace
To what little nonsense
Give the traction to hold
And again the light is coming up
Again the surrender is hyper
And spring time brings demise
For what is the angel?
I have to ask questions
Because the answers
Have run dry
I’m trying to beat back the rush
But as soon as I look
The object forms
And Oh my god its hideous
It must be suppressed
In the guarantee that this moment now
Is what is, for me
I am dancing step after step
Racing so fast
That my mind quiets into a single pointed touch
A focus on the feel of each note
The harmonics of each vibration
I never want to see myself
But annihilate myself in song
In poetry that no one can read
I wrote it too fast
For it to belong to me
Faster than the city
Faster than the bloom
I have killed the flower
So I will never have to watch it die
I am the hole in the earth
The flitting butterfly that must be kept inside
How could such a thing be done???
The world may be cruel
But my tear drops are blue
Straining out of the abyss
Into the forest of tomorrow’s past
To make a story of my life
To whore out to myself inspite
Of knowing that to look makes me
So uncomfortable
A lonely prostitute of experience
Fallen from the graces of a metaphysical queen
That broke division all together
By bringing love into the golden triangle
And spend squares into the light
Together another reach
A grasp a breath
I want to stop talking
I want to stop writing
But if I do the walls will break
And I will feel the ache
Of restlessness
That makes my soul quake
The harder I try
The harder I fall
All in all
I am nothing
Let me disintegrate
For when I was nothing
I could make connections
I hate reflecting
Want to just feel
The sorrow as well
Reflection is death
Wept by the glamour
Together at death
Together at best
Breath 2
I am running and running
So fast from myself
The truth it comes out
On line number 50
Because there’s only so long
You can lie
And make a soul-juice box
As the terror does die
Hold on to nothing
But if you don’t you will die
So I hold to illusion
That time has ripped by
Because my hopes stay down
At least I think that’s why
The barren-ness of a glacier
Turns to a spectacle in the sky
If I keep writing for hours and hours
Day after day
Eventually my pain
Will be turned into gold
I hope so
I hope so
If I don’t see me then
I can devote myself
To a reference of my head
Because who is this my?
If love has gone by
The immutable taste
Then what is there left
In the soul left to rape
What can friends say
The defense is my death
To make myself someone
Brings me so free
I cannot look anymore
And I don’t see why
I should
So I run run run
And just pay attention to myself
Not to my reflection
Break the fractal
I have to stop writing or I will see myself
Not be myself
Ahhh blast the buttefly
Sting a monkey on her cunt
And bring a lot of love
To gleam in the midnight sun
To redo the pain of nothing
To link up into the stars of castration
An old imagination
That holds up a sign
Of undying taste
To leave you in waste
As incurable taste
Greg, 30 july 2013
A Self- Depricating Lie
Grabbing to the green slime that drips from the horror wall
Attached to blackness and squandering faith
A waste on plastic tables melting
Blueness into tear drops of the Now
The shrouded cloud of psychedelia enveloping in cosmic form
The divinity of urban culture so affluent on judgements of any kind
Good Bad Terrible and Lovely
All words that describe the fate of the simpleton
The writer curled up in an impotent ball
Afraid of life and blaming all the rest
Symbolism as a way to hide; not to express
The inner Jew of fear
The subconscious node spoken to me by the realms of Gods
To say:
Hey you are the worst creation to ever come to be
And by acknowledgement you are trapped
Freedom is the trap as well
There is no where to go
And no one to be
The being of self denial is the illusion of the awareness of illusory nature
Divine apathy is the mode of my own distortion
I am the sand beneath your feet
Directionless and made to die; I am the lonely traveler; Alone-ness, essential-ly
Greg, 8 june 2013
Light and (Golden) Shadows
For the formulaic unknown:
Quasi-rebel faction usurped, uncertain
At every turn
Forensic in nature
Introduction romance from years past
Unstopping, Unthinking
Revision/stagnation is an illusion
The red tape rewound for hate
Made stagnant as fear
For another, me past or future
Self-image, image of and by another
To be true is to be love
Ostentate, for intrinsic definition is grey
Chains of water pouring in the next room
Alongside the tragic mistake
Of fear manifest as love
Availability to openness
Vibrations of equanimity
Breath of Shadows
Co-opt Om; Cut down
Pure being is Love is god
For the arrows of flowers penetrate gold;
Unabashed;
Made silent by the termination of the holding concept
The flow manifests in the non-written word
The spoken dance;Lightning Gold
Greg, 17 june 2013
Bare
This moment of flaccid connectivity
Shall spur and burn into systems
Unfolding, unrelenting expression
Red like the eyes of trees beholden witches
Young and old, dark and cold
Shine the light projected forth
In blue hair not so clean
Godliness is next to vanity
The void draped in colors made soft
The harsh freedom of the splintered night
Come together
Round the fire
Worship the wind
Greg, 11 march 2014
Witch's Brew
Witches are arising from closet doors
Doomed, serendipity to emasculate whores
Once upon time saw five open doors
Four three two one
Now there gone
Four three two one
Now there gone
Beat around the bush and see visible fate
Making home on everything that cannot wait
To satiate a pain that just ostentates
With eyes that open signs, and lines that castigate
Shiver in the cold, to break the same old chain
Winner over here, you saw me my dear
Dreams all fade away, when I stop and say
Who am I dreaming them
Four three two one
Now there gone
Four three two one
Now there gone
Applied around the surface and held close to the helm
Of a dying butterfly that probably fought like hell
Just like me just like me, but love is our disease
As the chance of resurrection tears me to my knees
Alleviate and elevate an ever growing rage
That traps a ghetto child in the songs of a gone age
Because the sounds of the now resound so loud with truth
That I run away into someone else’s youth
But
Four three two one
Now its gone
Four three two one
Now its gone
Sing upon the remedy a grand conflicted fear
Trapped in hell that’s raging on the dominance of a sphere
A stagnant sorrow comes crawling over me
So I’ll let it go and hoping not to be
Four three two one
Now I’m gone
Four three two one
Now I’m gone
Greg, 12 march 2014
An Amalgamation of Weird
Reality pervades the word
Making worlds seem blue
And colors all green
In the eye of a spectator
If I think about me
I will become dead
A dry concept that must be maintained
A burden to myself
She looks at me
And makes a mold
That I must carry around
And love to behold
But if I can just
Pay attention to the touch
Of finger tips on keys
And skin on bones
I’ll be left alone
By myself
To wither away
And die
My ego, my self-image
Renounced with no act of renunciation
But left to wither
Without being fed
Without being thought
Led out on to
The crystal space of maze
A torrential downpour
From my throat
That abhors me
And turns light into the shadow of genius
Renounce!!!
And skip as one with no skipper
Act with no actor
Action alone
But without action either
For there must be an actor
Let the periods dry out
And the emotions run cold
There will be six cents
That no words can behold
And break off the tulip
Turn a new leaf
Greg, 28 march 2014
Eyes Run Dry: Kill the Pretense
I fancy myself the dissection principle
To dance in the moonlight of constipated love
Bring forth the moon to say hello
By its name
The Word calls forth
That which calls forth
Oh so poetic
In its call
Praise the flagstaff hero dance
The tragic expedition into lost romance
By gone, the passing chance
To make love in the moment
Is all over my pants
All over my pain
And regained and alone
The cycle it emerges
As hurtful lost sounds
Words that enframe
And castrate the meaning
Of poetic destruction
Of limited being
Greg, 26 march 2014
Despotic Confusion
At times things are said
And feeling are hurt
To touch the flower
And slightly pull it off course
To bloom towards the shade
Of a weeping willow tree
Grass leans softly to the left
And a violently convulsing ego
Is gently caught in outstretched hands of prayer
Tamed
And made silent
In the whispering wind
Of a hot summer night
Gallantly seething
As confusion sets in
To go forward or try to grab
Is the difference between
A reasoned descent into madness
And a glimmering ride into the depths of nothingness
Spat on the floor
And arrested by the sounds that call me
Over the hills
To ways of despotism
Greg, 24 march 2014
The Office
Carnivorously tearing into the raw flesh
The neurotic tick tock of fingers
Clashing sharply with the harmony of souls
To unload money from the grips of Being
Take the eagle child, and make massacred stew
To relinquish into destiny
The long forgotten history
Of spies that reside, foreign, in the sky
Bearing down upon
What was once home to us
Latest comments:
18 may 2024
kb
jakoś kojarzy mi się z "siostrami wielkiej
18 may 2024
no chyba że pomieszkuje
18 may 2024
zdaje się że nikt tu już nie mieszka
18 may 2024
bardzo
18 may 2024
orzeźwieni... prawie jak otrzeźwieni... i to
16 may 2024
violetta
Może w lipcu będę miała takie wakacje:)
16 may 2024
jeśli tylko
słońce w płynie..
15 may 2024
Weronika
Za jeszcze jeden rejs!
14 may 2024
Mam takie oko :)
14 may 2024
Jaga
Zwierzęta upodobniły się do koloru otoczenia
14 may 2024
To naturalny suchy i pustynny klimat. I tam są
14 may 2024
Klimat taki, że nie był i raczej nie będzie,
19 may 2024
Satish Verma
18 may 2024
Satish Verma
17 may 2024
Satish Verma
16 may 2024
Satish Verma
15 may 2024
Jaga
15 may 2024
Satish Verma
14 may 2024
Satish Verma
13 may 2024
Satish Verma
11 may 2024
Satish Verma
10 may 2024
Jaga