then we can see each other in living
colour culling the kilometres with webs of electronic
far away friendship network beyond embryonic
...
And the sky remained our authority for what was not possible,
Until your last breath bereft of vitality conjured motionless prisms,
crystalline temples through which encoded parallel universes bespoke
innumerable plausibilities that we had not even dreamed of in the saline mists
...
Hermann Hesse
sighed writing glass beads
and
River Phoenix
...
Passion's escaping me,
like a flickering, red cloak and little hood,
hot ahead, yet in and out of sight,
not properly presenting for thine eyes
...
art's the cosmic bridge between heaven and earth
man's the cosmic bridge between vulgarity and turf
women are the keys 2 salvation
2day is the shadow of tomorrow
...
The theatre spent a good deal of time wrapped in a dream
before deciding to unfurl early and move like a clear, freshwater stream.
The thespian used effectively, their body in that space,
...
Auden and Yeats, perhaps in their contemplates,
one might have handed the whole of their heart,
to some other,
though now perhaps you might just read in contempt for Yeats,
...
Blissful in the necropolis,
is there where she lay
ever since she died today.
...
Across the belated accoustics of the night
footsteps circumscribing cedars in the dark
struck a liquid clearing,
...
Eight Bubbles in the Picture Eight Tracing Kiosks
Eight Keys Traction Eight Pivot in the Bubbles
Eight Bubbles in the Churning Eight Sing Skarabs
Eight Caravan Bubbles Sang in Eight the Churoskuro
...
Trying to find friendly patterns,
some kind of a sign,
just like that day when I'd,
swung from the clothes line.
...
the one who looks down
conjures their frown
the one who looks up
from their coffee cup
...
instinctively august modalities
shade the cloudswept marshmallows
composing his lustrous bedfellows
...
oh cloud so milky white
bird of such high flight
blue my eyes, wash their sight
now bespeckled by your light
...
Kindred spirits strolling through your amber autumn
leaves like the chameleonic colours of spectral spring and
time's shedding past lives preparatory to post mortem
...
he hasn't been laid in six weeks
not long really
but for this son of arabic sheiks
it's well nearly
...
Abandoned as a child and raised by a family of loving elephants, before being reunited with humanity when elephant catchers employed by a travelling circus happened upon him. Spent the remainder of his teenage years working as an acrobat touring Russia and various Eastern Bloc countries. Disgruntled, he ran away from the circus and hitched a ride on a cargo ship bound for South America. Disembarked from a shipping container full of yo-yos in rio de janeiro where he eeked out a living reciting poetry (which is delivered to him in messages from God) on the streets.)
Web Cams Topped With English Custard
then we can see each other in living
colour culling the kilometres with webs of electronic
far away friendship network beyond embryonic
then we can see each other in living
rooms ruminating on rumours
recruiting bandwidth with a view
viral with respect 2
your tumours treated nightly
spoken of but lightly
comparatively unsightly
with respect 2 U
then we can see each other in living
hell helping our historically limited luminaries
of technological avant tards release the reality canaries
then we can see each other leaving
each other like kiwi accents see i's instead of e's
i's before e's except after c's sees the rule broken busted
colouring the contours of my tears dropping into my half warm english custard