My verses in the 21st century

I have cried a many of nights,
cursing what I have seen,
as I try to disguise my face,
I still see the stupid things in this life,
as so many other dance on their plight...

I try to catch the butterfly sifting itself in the mist of time...
I find myself,
alone pointing the face of the gun, at the gully of the devil no one will focus on,the folly,
just twist and turn, over and over and it will be the crazy folly, of words lacking the substance, to warn..

Just a mad man touching the words and letters tangling himself up in webs of truth...

before you focus on the scorn,
the loudest roars from the chords,
sink back and demand more...

The placid taste,
the taste from the taste buds furthest from your toungue,
and you will find the scent,or the taste of something real and not fake,
full of electrons demanding your soul,
asking for love....

Our eyes are closed,
refusing to trust the silence of time,
we reserve nothing for the satisfaction of our souls,
no matter how much we become hollow in the killing of our soul,
we demand the stimuli of what we know!!

things unknown are the taboo of our time,
for we have many excuses for such,
in our idealism of making love into technology,
we give ourselves a settle for less in moments,
to feel in control,
as we depend less on our soul!!

we have become soulless and lost!!
as we once again drift into echoes!!
the flaw of man..
in 2011...

they found me....

It was a laid to waste substance...
They were searching for gold..
Only to find the priceless soul...

They demanded the future,
the gelding glimmering of gold..

I was but the decadent of the facade, of the idea's of the preist's
i stand with no armor,
no dent in metal,
no value of gold,
just the image of a rich soul,
so angry they have become..

reaching and grasping for ways to cut into my mind and soul...
I stand tall in the light,
as I laugh at their tall shadows...

I ask you...

Do you remember?


the world is full of drones,
caught up in the complexity of gold...

Do you remember?

What being a child?

We are swiming dancing with snakes, in the what we call the stakes...
Here I lie, I lie in the chasms of time,
in the chains, we call death and dieing...

Yet I lie on top of such perpetuation,
demanding the sound or touch or sight of such satisfaction when such thing occurs...
Yet indeed I expect...

such a let down, or lack of exceeding my expectation...
For we are beings of sight...

yet I can barely still see the light of love,
she shines bright,
yet dim in the here where the fog of man,
has born the scorn of man,
upon her soul.
and has warped her meaning in time!
She lies raped in the trape as we gravel in the damn shape of not man, but pigs,
in a waste land..

We are but thinking the wideness of eyes,
only to fall like our ancestors before in time...

Call ourselves Egyptions.. this year...

we are a rerun of man...

Another mess..

can barely stare, at you...

the stance away from here...

You stand still as a doe in the forest before the last year before,
still standing waiting for the pounce of the predator to take your breath...

I stopped trying to understand, years ago,
in a basement in the soul of an angel,
my eyes became dry..

I realized mankind can only light up or gain a stance, by slaughter..

It is all that makes sense to the men that stand afraid..

I had a dream..

I still do...



hello, I am the dream.....Or the one still dreaming...

They need the man made shade...


Insecurity is the instinct of man that will hold us back... Insecurity will be the essence of man, that will continue the dysfunction of our species.... It will also continue our brutal and devastating ways of man, to starve and kill our species...

I hate you!!!!!!!!!!!


I can see the children hurting and crying for food because your a rich insecure bastard...

I see hurting children right now... In our world..

Wow i see some growth on this thread... Almost a year old...

Sorry for the necromancy, I will be adding some more poems/versus tonight or later when I can enjoy my gift and passion....

Thanks for the support...

Its never to late to change...



Life is indeed just a madman's game with one hell of a chemistry set!

Yeeee hawwwww!

A Epoch,
it was a divine time... Or is it now?

Today I watched a cow, swim in a curd of chew, in a meadow,
where it stood dreaming of the perfect view,
as I sit and wonder out loud in words written to you I begin to stare......


I stir amounst the stirring... Oh that is not just quite right..

I mean I am stirring the echoes from the ripples, bouncing off the vat that holds the porridge of men's dreams recycled for us to digest once ripe again with age...

once again we are of age...

old enough to find the taste of waste all among dirty faces,
no matter how much we sprinkle money all over our face,
we still smell, taste and see the rottenness of MAN!!!!


I stand in the shadows with my bare hands,
holding onto what is left of the fertile plateau..

No longer lost in my way,
I am the last to protect the fertile imagination and intellect of man...

Lets call it... Call it the placebo, the reticle we squint our eyes upon, to gaze upon the darkness of a sunset, and not the death of light...

Bogart... His fate is in your hands..

because, you are so different... You have your Mother's gift.. Its so special, you can see into the hearts of strangers... Also can smell the hearts of death, as they beat on the rifts of vibrations from burning suns across the brows of praying nuns in a land where the sun still stands upright on the brow of the frown of the blue sky...

Yet of course let us string up the Child called Indigo,
the Young Indian's dream,
her Indian name was Indigo, for the complexion of her soul,
now she is but a sold out story, sold in a circus or fairground sound....

In my attempt to help Chris Martin, I decided to get up above the stars to look down upon them, before I write this.....


I listened....

I heard it as I put my ear to the ground, a beat communicating to morris, about how the end of the last spin will be spitting out seconds in vain, as the essence of of what we call time, or aka space is laid to waste, as seconds and minutes meet each other for the first time, in a burning ember in a can of tin...




As space and time meets for the first time,
ethereal chanterelle fields of lost instincts meet for a second time...

Speaking words in a tone our human ears cannot conceive and for damn sure could never believe..

Some alive, would just sit and die within the hive,
others will dream and peer out at the stars or swim in the streams,
and hear words once and awhile whispered from the gods..

Leaving them in wonder...

All in All... Listening to the shock waves,
man has discovered how to decipher the ancient words of our ancestors, begging the gods, as we do now in 2012

LIGHT OUR WAY....

So this guy, he told me..

Life is to short...

For us to care, or give a damn,
and he told me as we lose our damn minds we lose control..

Well ya...

He was right..

So then I began to think,
how many of us are medicated?
forcing ourselves to withstand this life we live,
chasing dreams but when we focus clearly on the sun and look back down, we are chasing zombies!!!

We should have found our dreams by now, but instead we chase pennies.. LOL

we live our lives to care about monies that control our minds,
Dares ask me to question the right outcome of 1945... Yes in Yesterday...

We are caught in one or more Kaleidoscopic vision of what we call truth..

Ah the nurses are bringing me my syrup, my time is almost up..

I dedicate this to a friend..

I dedicate this to dj... Hell to all of ats.. The ones that are still using their senses...


So I caught wiff of the mechanics of light and darkness..

It was dealt with, with a steady hand,
and the whole accord of darkness did not want to be ever found, as it caught the grip of the neck of the light, as it was drug to the begining of me and you barried in the hole of our dark souls we call the thing we call our would be the dark hole,the light that struggles to keep us away from our dreams...

I seem to find myself falling deeper in the streams of man's dreams, finding the vortex's of the blood of men like me and you dead...

What about this...

careful...

I can see clearly again...

I found fate tempting faith, on a kitchen table, legs wide open and begging for a disdain to make a placid face when the moment of perfect equations meant to fall into place!!

leaving them part of the remainder or death or the waste of the perfection of the idea of man, that is still in Penelope...

so then I watched a Mother shed a tear in the open, in a foreign land,
it was cold, and hot when I stepped into the sand to elope with the real man, who was a statue that stood in stature from a far away land...

This time, man has lost the touch of his hands, the taste of his mouth, and his eyes are blind to the sight...

Shortly after the laughter, their will come a moment of doubt...

at that moment a time will occur that will feel perverted, for thinking such..

then ridicule and laughter will ensue..

then your realization will occur.. Your default your comfort processing of your mind..

I will be labeled mad, crazy or whatever to satisfy your understanding...
so be it..

Yet so I dared!!


To my beautiful women...

pay some respect ever in TB come watch them!!!


www.movingcurrent.com...

I have forgotten to speak...

Now I just shout....

Breathing in the remainder of life,
I felt the wind,
force the new death within my breath, a smell the four winds looked around to try and see,
within the smoke,
you could see everyone who did not care, run around in the fair down bellow the sparks that caught ahold of a loose soul..

The flames licked the sky,
only to draw the tides of the sea away from the moon, that tried to light the sky in a Indian story left in history to die...


Good evening...



Let's write tonight..

Their is a summer storm forming within the indigo, within the tropic of cancer, lies Man kind's death,
we still think we are in control,
yet we stand asleep in the sand,
as we bury ourselves with our own hands..

Everyday... We sense less and less of the day...

Their is a new flavor in the nectur,
that has created a suffix of what it is we think we feel,
or sense and call real...


Think back,
hard to a time,
where the clouds still formed in the east, at the end of the summer breeze,
a time where the chimes of lightning were followed with the bellows of dying gods in the heavens...

Yes indeed lets read..

When I stood up to stare at the sky,
I found myself staring into a mirror at a man like me,
I was standing in a steamy bathroom, preparing for a banquet to let go of all the women I met at the show...


I found myself touching my face with a razor to wipe away the dirt of many many years...

I squinted at the bright star at a half past the memory of the memory of you loving me everytime I woke up next to you, watching the sun of the dawn touch your face and I always remembered how I wished to remember your face...

No matter how hard I tried to focus,
at this dim lit star so far away from yesterday, I could not see clearly the beauty with my naked eye, I could not stretch time or tighten it, to bring this beautiful star to focus....

Just as I could not remember the beauty of my first love's face...

So far away...

So long ago,
so many winds of change blowing thru my hair,
so many summer nights,
closing the world in...

I remember walking down roads of change with the future in the air,
taking me to magical nights with her,
where Dancing children laughing and singing,
rocked us to sleep..

Ah such distant memories...

On nights like this,
I like to dream of you and me...

I heard her voice...

I was in a jewelers store,
looking down into a jewelry cabinet,
that held stars, sparkling in place,
all asking for a place within the heart of a storm...

Her voice was soothing,
a comfort,
like seeing the first stars in the dusk Tuskegee skies.

It was a call to a man's heart,
in a language or tongue that twist words into sound that is in a tune of precision.. A man can stand at a setting sun, for many days, and never see the shore light up as it did for me, that day I woke up to hear her voice...

I will never die a lonely man...

For her voice is in my heart and mind, for all this time...







It is still hard to believe... She still remembers me, even as she dances and melts with the stars again and again!!!!!

He was born lucky,
only price he had to pay,
was the loss of his mother, and not being able to shed tears,
his Father beat away his childhood years,
with the could have been dreams,
he has become everything he wanted to be,
without being able to shed his own tears....

Bathing in fading light,
and broken with lovers hearts,
loving women who did not hear his words,
and slipped away with the tics of the clock,
he welcomed the grandfather clocks,
into his pedigree....



Someone going home tonight,
could never understand the sacrifice,
of the man they left behind,
they let the angels in,
to guide them thru this God damned ravine...

A dry one... With his footprints to follow...

So as I watched i saw a young man,
he was to stand,
no wait he was moving in line with time,
it was down a path, oh wait a road,
downtown,
within a city,
made of not just stones,
but metal from men who sat upon thrones,
anyhow,
this man he was dark in the lisp of auburn,
within the gauge of life's hand,
anyhow I am still watching him right now,
nothing special nor intriguing..
Yet interesting to me, because I cannot be seen...




he is ordinary and unwise...

Just for fun now...


In the distance An onomatopoeia, was being sung by a child who did not breath,
or walk with two feet,
he hung upside down on a willow tree and waved his arms to reach out and touch his dreams,
and scorned the water from the remnants of stars and our sun..

He was sworn to scorn the Gods, who laid to waste the face of man,
putting it into a space Where the WO was bent to be placed before the man...

A accreditation to the distaste and challenge of our survival in this space..

I still tickle the willow from time to time,
to hear the child laugh and chuckle,
within this hatred,
I weed the weeds around the roots and boots,
of men who strangle the playgrounds on the plateau where this child has had to turn upside down,
in order to see us and sing to us,
stretching his voice into waves across the water, where it can be heard above the crashes of the tides on which men have learned to lie about their meanings....
another raw one...







I think I have written you people a book...


Your welcome...

much more to come...

I reached my goal... 76....

Divine infinity cries for internity...

Yet no tears for me..

Or him,
or her,
we stand and feel our heart beat,
it faulters when we love her or him,
when they do not hear our pleads, of yours...

No tears for us...

Let Divine infinity cry for our wasted years.



I will not eat the bitter roots of beats,
or stave of the sacrifice of someone wasting a young woman's soul,
as she dreams he is the man who hears her heart singing in the end,

technology.. it has a drift to it...

Profound... Yes The ship wreck has been found,
as I search for my mind..
my feet are on the ground,
yet I am twisting the fire cracking wicks in my mind,
as I light the wick with my spazz and pizzazz and the flick of my finger withing my wrist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YEA!!!

I was singing to the animals behind the rocks,
they were naked swimming with the fish,
stoked and choking in the smoke..

It was lame yet they were sure as hell not ashamed!!!

baptizing in the waves the lost souls,
wrangle the tricks,
to feel the warmth of the salt of the sea on their finger tips...

Just as long as they are in the water....

Concluding the words,
Once alive,
with the breath of a breath,
breathing for the sick that are withering and shaking with their last gasp,
dyeing in the difference,
as they shake the spot god bless,
as death has been acknowledged at this moment once more..

Fell into the curve of the shell,
I heard the sea,
it was mellow and wet,
it had the breeze trapped in its concave and curves,
it begged me... To be free...

I laughed and typed this out to be shared to the World..

The Mime began to cry,
washing away its paste on its face covering the wrinkles of history,
he went blind staring into our mind..

We stood strong and full of pride,
as the liar from the same timeline,
tried to rally our souls,
trying to trick us in the dark,
we looked past the decadent decade,
and saw the time,
where we could listen,
to the wind,
and see the evergreens of our dreams dance in the life of our TIME,
the gargoyles of time,
stared into the divine marble, that gave their bones their marrow,
to perch above the souls of the weak,
on the meek backs bellow man's soul,
where the scribes scribble words to our souls...



Ah let us write tonight..

I want to scream my words aloud, so perhaps they out live my breath of life here on ats...