Bernhard Emil Bruhnke III

Rookie - 13 Points (07-19-1984 / Louisiana)

Sleep Takes Me To Everything - Poem by Bernhard Emil Bruhnke III

'He invented a face for himself. Behind it, he lived, died and was resurrected many times.
His face now has wrinkles from that face. His wrinkles have no face' - Octavio Paz


STOP

this

itself.

Another waits.
Flightless as
indecision

The Grip

We are.....
Pare(nthes) is between
nouns.

Me
now

second

watch
Dream....(*&E^$#.....

Feathers of language disect the skin.

You are a ---


--different page

Autograph
Camera.

Reflection of nights

((((shiver))))) ///stripes........

WE ARE EACH OTHER!

Paper: relief of greater concepts.

The fictitous idiom that we are
no longer in control of ourselves.

F s i r n
i h of D e s o
v i

This is a jigsaw of cartoon noses.

END/BEGINNING/REFLECTION....


THERE IS NO FILM! ! ! ! !

Vibration
to embryos
to pigments
to sensation
to comphrehension
to analysis
to introspection
to objections
to preventions
to devastations
to alienation
Evil..............Good
Vibration


Imagination is the only true form.
Reality is the only mistake worth keeping.

Perhaps this is time spinning,
that i never know this is true.

In Truth,
This has and never will happen.

This is me, you, I, why? ! .

Question
Action
Thought.

I'm reading this over.
Agreeing and doubting.

Impatience for nirvana
is an everyday inconclusion.

The nibbling scratch of closing words
menstrating over imperfection.

How these screaming dogs are my creation!


Religion is
real.
Religion is
fantasy.
Religion is
fantasy for real.
Religion is
the scar from scratching out a mistake. The miscarriage of our horizon.

Comedy that boos.........inside a squiggling dance of our oppresed opium.




God forgive me for being you for a moment.

I am your life.

I am currently changing you.


Ego is the hangman's last defiance.


The roaring engine of wolves.
Panting teeth of contrition.






She and I were married

we forgave:
to mispeak


freely
How endings never finish.
The grammar lies...........run on sentence!



Is everything correct because it runs?
The psychosis of breath accepting a position of accidents?


I write this way because
I feel I will never return here.
This nonsense
euphoria.

Poetry is what I
are
the
so

combines.

Footsteps............. ........................Spoken out loud.
Crush our silence. Our need for exposition over the magic of circles.<-

it looked like crickets.

THIS IS WHAT THAT IS!

I'm writing to an audience.
Who?
Me?
No?
You!

Hi. (((waves)))

Which one am I creating?

Is this me?
am, this, correct.

Read this............................................. ...................
You said it best.

The whispered forest in my hair
I imagined fear.
She is it.
She?
Why She?
She is Why?

LANGUAGE:
Pow! Door! ? Gun! ?

Have I died?
Death is my second choice. First decision.

Bleeding
weak.
panic.

In doubt, Time absorbs.
Heavy
Ignition.

Faith scares all of us into ourselves.

Unearth! Science: God into Theory.

I see you reading

I know you.

You did this too.

Intertube of white/chalk colored Jesus.

Poet,
We are You.

You,
Poet We are.

are,
You Poet We.

Stop.
the cycle flaws.
Why do we not move
the periods and commas?

Growth
Death.
Life
Decay.

This has happened before.
I have seen you being ourself.

LOST
ALL
______________________________________

______________________________________


Said without saying
saying without Said.


Life and the artist are the breath of progress indesposed with the invisible appearance.

Life studies you.
The scalpels of failure scope
the broken staircases.
The jumbled wounds of shriveled penises.

Air regains.
Dont you know?

How it bEginNeD

Direction is whatever we
considered to be more than
forward.

If I forget this. Then triumph.
Tell me.
Close My Eyes

Forget

Life is the dream that is always awake.

I feel
I overpower
I know
I correct in the vision of words

I
O


This space is words

Now. Assemble.
Sleep.
Again. Always.

..........((((((((((((*******Sleep takes me to everything*******))))))))) .........


Comments about Sleep Takes Me To Everything by Bernhard Emil Bruhnke III

  • Sulaiman Mohd YusofSulaiman Mohd Yusof (10/6/2008 11:46:00 PM)

    Your flows.......kept me twisted....but still on times, to catch up my next breathing! ! ! ! brilliant writes my bro Bernhard. (Report)Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, October 5, 2008



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