pistons esteem

pistons-esteem

how unreal a soul can be

how egotistical fake unloyal this animal can become

lost never found ever found? death found- always

stirs in the night stirs our hearts ignored by our minds

delay the comfort misread mis heard words for statues

what statues?  stone statues in my mind?

built up men that cease to exist at the physical line

silly updogs burrowers fake assesors of the mind

stone statues carved plate words but no feeling

cold stone cold words cold plate

warm bodies warm breath warm tears

feel the warmth from life and then cold from categories

sun shines on my soul because fright me not the sky my partner my vessel only full of life

my form animal my tone beast my stare- igniting

my love for life my love for tender broken bones our love for fuck

life is a tender bone broken mended fixed cracked repaired crushed -then amputated

decaying cut off fender bender tender bender bone hard flesh soft this broken life just enough

sorry disputed lowering heads shrinking egos display balls

loud outbursts ham yelling finger flicking glowing darts

extinguish white fluff kills your must filth strong unkind word create sore

blister bubbles pain guilt unconscious pistons banging away at our logic centers

banging our decisions

banging our fucking brains

that guilt that fucking guilt you say buried but it beats your brain daily

fucks your head

guilt fucks your head pistons banging fucking train pistons bobbing these feelings projecting these guilt ridden forbidden emotions.

to our friends family our other one.

pieces our tender bones mended together for the display the museum you display you antique relic display yourself

delayed casts broken gaskets banged up ideals morals values truths your sewer center filled with what?

what do you pump through your veins?

decisions in the past feelings emotions tucked away pumping slowly through veins

breeding quietly in your brains littering your life -with pain.

-Gwant

sands

cracks no mend needed fill in with lust

dust crust filthy must end this crazed fluff

hollowed tubes balls of wire intrepid lines in my mind

moths butterflies deer skin lies never in my eyes

the best actors lie through their teeth hearts cut out heads exalted

best in class good looking sass tiger meow what is to fault

the head is to fault the heart the gut the hands and feet is to be exalted

the lies are to be buried our heads to be buried our minds future past buried in the sand

our wiggley feet hands our up down bellies shown

but cower my smile for fear that something more might be shown

i cower below in the depths of my gut down gravity pulling my smile down

to a frown

in the sand

where no one can see or feel but me- and the sand.

-Gwant

3 am

smoke signals
on your doorstep
in the night
freezing cold
burns
into your soul
as you
stomp out the light
of another
sickness
death inhaled
i will survive
to kill myself
again
another night
but i have seen
the hollow eyes
exeunt of life
a mother
drowning
in stained
cotton sheets
still i cry
at 3 am
under blankets
my only
comforters
fighting off the blankness
in the stares
that were so many
slaughted silently
still i wait
by the grove
where my father
was murdered
by reality
pondering the time
it would take
for my spirit
to wander
like the mother
and the father
i am the beast
that haunts
in the doorways
by the bedsides
in the kitchens
drowning
with the memories
of one hundred
fires
burning out
slowly
and still i wait
always

spitfire

spit it out

dont swallow
your lines
when they come

have fun

fucking yourself

in the face

when you make

a mistake

taste your words

turn them over

bend them backwards

flip them upside down

--but take your time

before you release

don't let them

come too soon

even when you think

you are through

murdering silent beast

murdering-silent-beast

crowded streets empty hearts beating brain drum

high knights roam eyes match in unison troops assemble

perfect lines perfection marching with eyes down frown

duty unforgiven murder bomb kill for duty

bare your fangs for duty

animal cannibal barking dogs withheld by steel barriers

steel barrier duty?

keep the dogs at bay troops focus stays

steel mean cold uniform steel blockading our barking dogs

bark dog bark for me i need the motivation

a wolf creature flies over the mean steel and bounces into the street filled with troops

grizzly sizzly biting legs thighs arms guns bayonets aimed at this animal furious rage trapped animal

boom boom stab blood runs my wolf died

my love my motivation my inspiration my teacher

has died.

the frowning uniformed troops have killed the growling animal

now a steaming red pile of hope faith and fire the troops note the death

someday pleading with themselves to redeem the rest

beasts killing beasts silent beast killing roaring beast

-Gwant

boom

boom

semi sweet logic trickles in again

years of bouncing boxing collapsing

need explosive thunder clapping brain booming

half mind mine the other half the world

what we put in remember the hit dismiss the miss

whats good know whats bad no no

push and pull hold on and let go of ideas

rules ruler of thought slave to laws pimps to ourselves

shove this out breed this newness cloud your foggy head with more smut

boom boom boom destroy all of those tidbits

boom boom boom out diddys

visualize boom then boom the visual

take it then break it

create it then rape it

build it up for a bigger boom

or keep it sensible and at ground level

rapid small quiet booms on earth

spread out loud beautiful sparkling demonic boom in the heavens

the heavens we created i created in my mind

to do so must close my minds eye and stop the booms

build up the non-boom logic until sense booms that shit to smitherings

intelligent human beings capable of controlling your boom.

you bloom with each boom.

boom is boon for bloom

-Gwant

Smeers

hiccups bubbles smoke rings from lungs

beer bongs tickle my tongue

from my brother

'melting flesh

lead feet'

water is and patience has won

from my brother and from others

we learn copy and obey the physicality of daily life.

Years Later: Biker Brothers

years-later

finger dipping into warm holes gathered by domino dingos

brass knuckles crush cushiony flesh brought forth by pajama papas

lager liquor loud crashing hells angels outlaws from dusty desert

silver chains melting away brains skull caps rotten teeth from igniting ice

glass chambers smiles black eyes cues corners rockets garner greed

black feather dipped in ink signed at the line hell bent on leather- forever

-Gwant

count me in

count-me-in

gross drains red carnegie trees mean bean

stock to sky giant polar bear singular eye

mind eye spinning round the beanstock never notice the tick tock

flocks crowd bottum stock necks ache from staring up

eyes tears gloss fear innocence wait to climb up

green drain climb to fall up to come down fake bruised clowns yelling

screaming to follow screaming to break screaming to let go

a trampoline below but not to catch the falling clowns

but to catch the falling leaves the ashs

sticks in the fire

we rub each other down until we ignite

friction tick tock tick tock until i off

clowns gowns leaves sticks falling bricks gaffy tribes barbed boundaries

jogging juggernauts blaze the flesh succulent funeral dinner

toast roast humans boast- until the fall from stock than braised on a rock

black hoods surround the feast fire reflects from their eyes

the taste brooding red taste of fate

-Gwant

Clams

clams

a gap found a hole now escaping creativity raping-burns

cannibalism in the night no fright as animals reep- sizzles

human above us all but depth below untold-erupts

reach for rise for die for no greater than see you later-sucks

fire burns it does not care fire consumers air-crutch

devoured the fuel meaningless as the flame curls upward-touch

fire dances fire is not a time keeper-tick

fire is momentary heat fire is in my heart-lick

shit in my mind fire in my heart- split

fire to love hate passionate fire that never doubts-nor thinks

fire for the animal pleasure in my fire-fun

starve my head but feed my body-dumb?

yet to begun.

-Gwant

i said:

i am the haunted stranger

living always inside myself

hibernating genius

destroyer of freedom in speech

killer of the unexpected line

exhaler of sick sentences

weighed and waited for hours

in the basements of my mind.

i reek of words unspoken

living in the grammatical

concentration camps of soul

fuck the thought police

flies from the dream pipe(s)

climb bomb jump run skip dip flip

with smoke still in your lungs gun buns trampoline finger fun

harvey dicks ron shmidt gongos geese fists treats guests that dont eat meat

curb side gray concrete blooms bows slippers jumpsuit nikes bikes dykes vast array of creeps in the night

creeps sleep colors bubble at feet rubs toes grains of rainbow fidget widgets glowing corroding blackness showing

underneath the snow dark man is flowing.

-Gwant

G$CASH$MY$

money

prosperous pompous filled to the brim dooms odor

glass walls beaded teardrops crystal break when fall

spotlight no night middle of the day but still blind

still no time to remember no time to rhyme

barely time to wait but time to pass the plate

fixed rates contemplate bank church filth dirt green smut turkey butt

slap down platinum dong booms screams laughter and cheer

and all the mothers and fine daughters come near

a big stick makes them smile from ear to ear.

analogy.

sunshine dimes clowns glocks corners rocks docks flocks and clocks

own at selling buying fatal right from cradle.

-Gwant

Warmth

Feel the cold until I drag you in.

A pleasant Warmth fills within.

Gently breathe.

Then Cold again.

SPIT ON YOU

You say

Spit on them.

Spit on them,

who control, and lie,

who spend their days, there time,

running me

my life.

You say this

very loud and very proud.

To be seen

and to be heard.

So people will look

and say

he's right,

I want to listen to him.

I want to be like him.

Let us do what he

does.

He is right.

You spend your days

and your time.

Shouting

while others

run

your life.

-Ryan

swoosh boom

dawn breaks frosty tips melt away

red green blue sliding together sliding away

blue lines forever red spot clumpy green moves

white stays black is the stretch

rainbow dots flying out from my chest

a circle circle myriad of circles dining with each other

hugging each other touching rubbing filling feeling

circles circles circles circles collide kaleidoscope

interconnected circles lines colors squigglies and wigglies

love triangles guessing games dance of death

words turds gray worlds of solid

physical logical mathematical grammatical spirals symmetry beauty

conviction touch gross guts friendly flunkies unheard of junkies

red the shape heart depth forever broad as is tall but in a bowl

fishies swim grin

dont wanna go back

dont wanna go back

not to the bowl

not to the bowl

i dont wanna go back to the bowl

i wanna stay here and be red fed greeted treated understood quoted justified crucified

nothing but a wet sponge

water

water is patient water is

water is.

-Gwant

heldy great filthy rake

heldy-great-filthy-rake

heart death beating popping throat

one arrival to another destiny

beat continues words fall heart stops

a second feeling emotion patience

second thoughts think twice love in your life

worth the cost fuster buster cleaner duster

spinny drills red splatter through my brain

out the other side can finally think thank

with fingers i collapse my stomach and hug my lungs

hold my apparatus to the sky

a wreck red pulsing slowing fading fire burns out air runs out

eye ran out

Pans out death cloud figures low luggage stowed

green grass light green turquoise bloom bombs swoon

bombs boon no boom triple crown Victorian moon

harps rape great lakes figure eight infinite eye

mind eye mine eye the eye our eye his eye her eye its eye

happy pie abyss in the mind deep wells naked children spooning the walls

a grim reaper of logic standing tall

dipping into the unconscious

what luggage does thou hath stowed-below?

-Gwant

nightVision

belong

to the shadows

to the natural tilt

the ever sounding beating

of drums in atlanta

 undercover in suburbia

fighting back the words in the walls

that shower over the weak

 we must escape

this mad reality.

Story book

Red thread?

exhaled bubbles of breath big nuts baked naked underneath children

expansion growth pop fall wrapped up caught knotted

thread goes up my pants up my shirt- pulled tightly against the others

close to the men- close to the sewing machine

a moment-needle

life- thread

im a part of a patch in this cloth storybook

sew me i am being sewn me and the others seemed like forever

im in rotation not noticing the monsters- those threaded too- but not near me

big white pages- big red thread

i am pulled tightley so tightly

loopy loop as the machine swings back and forth perfectly

morning star dew red red red indecision and red

-Gwant

Private: rainFLOPS of fire

Talking shit rip raindrops of fire

burn eyes cry why youre a bitch with too much time

thank god for today its all coming back

to bite you in the ass

you are high on your own pedaSTOOL

shit runs from your mouth

open your hole-mouth-and the smell makes me run

for health reasons i  cant be near you

for every reason i cant be fond of you

because shit runs deep

lowness runs shallowly

your pools of personality are brown, green, and smell like shit

your words are massive but you are small

a weak bitch only your mouth is tall

so you are left- alone bleeding, shitting from your holes

you are dirty-nasty innocent only of kindness

guilty always of being a shit

you little fuck- little fucker- unconscious bitch

only capable of shitting, burning, roasting feces proudly

for the world to see.

you nasty bitch you smelly whore you reek

your fire burns only with the fuel of others' anger

bash heads to feel another's touch bitch grow up

ballsclawssocksdolls

ohhhhh yes!!!

ohhh yes i need the light! save my soul! my soul wanders as it finds the internal glow- as your’s sits stagnant in its own filthy prison of self doubt. i am searching for truth- you say you have it. you have a pile of shit with a label on it saying its safe to consume. where do you sit in your throne? undoubtedly you sit alone. or do you sit with god? your very own ego hog. im sure you have a fantasy- but you will have no part of me.

Tribes(ulation)

tribes

lost found tribes-flow

beast unleashed flavors to fro

swags the name swags my game

followers-fool, lead from trees

meet greet soak my feet

this woman kneels before me

two bodies- we have two bodies

two bodies lets flow and breathe through touch

two bodies to grow- to braid

twine is fine rope is mine but this life tether divine

life contour inexplicable, tender mercies

shiver warmth morphine holy spirit

dust-must die feet climb hands write liberty of mind

no oppression open filthy runs in and out

pimp central-city- a sewer melting pot, soul collaboration

find a crest, cusp, abyss, deep dark hole

heart, mind, tongue, ass, balls, claws, socks, dolls

unleashed, unvanquished, vindicated from uniqueness and antiquity

vindicated from alone soul emptyness

free from hate love sensationalism

earth leaves trees birds doors stairs- to nowhere

a stairway to heaven?

a door of perception.

-Gwant

Reality is a carpet, until you can pull it back and see the foundation it is built upon you can not fully understand it.

to our future

We remember things once they are gone
Contributing to a deepening loan taken from our very own pockets
So remember why we sent up those rockets
Constantly searching for things lost from our minds
We dont think of anything much more than ourselves
No one else, just your own being and wealth

To strive from our lost possessions
We must greater our chances at living in advancement
Think hard, think long, think openly
Try hard, go long, and do so openly
With a guide from clean hands we can go so far
We can not trust our government with any information as to who we are
A new hope and beginning
Promised by man with hopes of winning
The world.
Stop the pain and torture
Before retaliation hurts you
For our future
As it falls to nothing

-cody

38

The rain will not stop for you, Ophelia. Outside.

Looking for your children. Soaking wet-- searching.

Crying a symphony for love. Not stopping to notice

the pieces of yourself, soul falling on the pavement,

mixing with the tears of the sky, who cries for you.

Who else listens, and who else knows of your intention?

Are the gray storm clouds alone your only sympathy?

Who sorrows for you, Ophelia? My love. The earth's love.

Spawn of the birches and dirt-dust. The ancient mother.

The new sun's daughter of remembered pasts.

Once whole, the fragments of your purpose now gather

in pools, streaming down the concrete driveway incline

out into the river, formerly known as Ray drive. Escaping.

Traveling faster away in muddied currents. Out of reach.

Going like yesterdays out into the nothing spaces of oblivion

because tomorrow will never be the same

like so many other things that will never be the same

because you are wet

because you are crying

because you cannot cry anymore

because your life is missing-- or torn away from you

by an unseen force; Some wrathful hand of a god

but what crime have you committed in your ignorance?

For this reason you search still, breaking yourself in silence

because you forever will remember their warmth

because you can never stop trying to forget

because without them you are only breathing, not living

like your heart, you will follow currents of polluted blankness

move faster and faster-- swimming and kicking-- to places

unknown by everyone, but you know are there

meet a full moon night from fonder memories

where the angels and your children shine as stars

beckoning you to join them

calling out "mother"

in bell music voices, and singing songs

that rhyme with "mother", and sound like "mother"

they glow and stretch their arms toward you

and cry out "MOTHER"

as you continue to drift into nothingness

-OPHELIA

Morning Star

Balls deep romance what the fuck-

slide into me as we breathe through touch

fuck the rough give and take keep up

in the lane playing games acting with fame

torture the name slay the day fake the grave

a clock on the walls brings us to the fall

a page turned purple men burning

slows the pace feel the race the sensation known as rotation

a fixed point bleeding from us all

a mixed feeling portraying the morning star.



-Gwant

(crackle)

Behind Eyes

Innocence lost?

All men reveal as the moon cries out from the shadows of the sun; infants at best.

Wide eyed and scared shitless. Audacity, a fools's only scape.

No mask is older than time!

Stars, scars, mars,

never had a voice.

Mimes.

Hear it calling far off, whisper of wind.

Breath the sobering air of freedom, whisked away by the rolling tides of esctacy.

Lost? Found! Not Guilty.

-Ryan

31

when will heaven come to visit me? anytime of no time? in no form of any form? no day of any week?  when can i stop? cease and desist myself?

when am i clean?--when i am a Police Woman?

member of a congregation?

old man thumping preist? --reaper of men.

will i ever be clean enough to strut through heaven's gates?

the twisted, barbed wire ceiling--

blood in my hair.

trying to trespass on Divine property.

God. Almighty. Jehovah.

Father of the virgin's child.

protector of the weak

downtrodden

heroin whores of all the world.

when will your atonement come to stay at my house?

Zeitgiest: Addendum

By Jordan Maxwell

"The more you begin to investigate what we think we understand, where we came from, what we think we’re doing; the more you begin to see we’ve been lied to. We’ve been lied to by every institution. What makes you think for one minute that the religious institution is the only one that’s never been touched? The religious institutions of this world are at the bottom of the dirt. The religious institutions in this world are put there by the same people who gave you your government, your corrupt education, who set up your international banking cartels; because our masters don’t give a damn about you or your family. All they care about is what they have always cared about and that’s controlling the whole damn world."

 

"We have been misled away from the true and divine presence in the universe that men have called God. I don’t know what God is but I know what he isn’t. And unless and until you are prepared to look at the whole truth and wherever it may go, whoever it may lead to — if you want to look the other way or if you wanna play favorites, then somewhere along the line you’re gonna find out you’re messing with divine justice. The more you educate yourself, the more you understand where things come from the more obvious things become and you begin to see lies everywhere. You have to know the truth and seek the truth and the truth will set you free."

what is to break? to be broken? to fall out into nothingness, or to be strangled by Stranger in a Friend mask, cloaked by illusions of love, imagined god, epitome of eternal beauty in a gross world? i have had visions of falling in and out of smoke clouds breathed from a thousand burning trees in California, where there is no life to catch me. because they are dying, and because i am invisible. they are screaming in their caps of orange flame, crying to the sky for pity. pleading to the god unknown to all but wild things and wild souls.  they are wallowing in their earthen beds. they are aflame. they are illuminated.

the light is beautiful, i realize, as i touch the first limbs of the furnace. my bones are hot irons, now that sear my transparent flesh, cooking insides; glowing skeleton; Halloween display hanging from the corner of an elderly couple's porch, swaying in the wind as children, frightened and nervous, slowly climb the wooden steps to the door.  glow-in-the-dark bones dancing in the night air, as i dance in fire. one, embracing the moving; the other, the forever unmoving. stillness and death. but there is no death for me in imaginings. i continue to fall, through smoke and flame, and trees. down to where the sky begins again, because there is no end in all things. because i have never really been broken. even in thought. there is no mercy in matter.

-OPHELIA

Baptism by Death

Witness the half-wit aloofness of our sun; center of the world. Fully or barely aware of the fact, but aware nonetheless. Bathing in love and grattitude, however circumstancial. Lusting for glamour and fame, all the more futile. With closet regret, the wise know what they can not wish to forget; we will remain ignorant. Bound by the chord of gravity, timelessly orbiting, circling; running away aimlessly. Never to stray from the only light we know. What sorrowfull pity, the wasted hope of liberation.

-Ryan

the sharp edge of knowledge

we know

the innocence is lost

the air we breathe is the sin

invisible

but keeps us alive-- truths held inside

lies resin-ate fabricate

coat your chamber

truth disregards the muscle, shoots for the stars

truth in movement

as the moment moves you

balls claws socks and dolls

-Gwant

Its a time with infinite breaking grounds to choose a glamorous lifestyle.

All you have to do is walk more miles, on bare feet and in the cold.

If your light falls dim just short of paved roads, hop off your feet and run on your toes.

It gets no harder so keep running further. I know its torture but pain wont hurt you when your set on your goals.

All of the stopping and starting does nothing for you, but digs yourself a bigger hole.

I'd rather be climbing and running on hot coals than to be standing out in the cold.

To me, there is nothing like some lonely roads.

--Cody

NYC November 2008

Union Square Nightmare?

Imperialists... they spookin around,

dreadheads frown

pigs split the lips

uncurl

When the pigs split

...the game continues

Bud?

I need 5.

You take Xanax?

Sticks, yes.

Take it right now...careful! Fantasy becomes reality.

Because I got hooked up

with trees and anti-anxiety.

I feel good because I burned

on the stoop, now

High we stand and declare

"I feel good!"

-Gwant

THIS

The cool--

FIRE                     factors of ice

Broad is us all

depth is our fall                   into our deep moon

dark treasured                       adultertated seed

feed the need

to fulfill the tree...

breed the creed which is your steed

the FIRE                         burns universally

the water

cools internally

the unity in seperation      the fulfillment in concession

breadth in depth

a circle

squares?      dig in

to your mind and heart

plow this      hammer this     burn this    care for this

be strong for this    we are this   this is god    this is love

this is thought

this is natural            this is why we live

this is why we were born

this is taking care of the young and never forgetting faces

this is NOT imperialism

Sunday Morning Comedown

I feel the strong dull thud of my heart’s bell clanging repeatedly against my iron chest.

Reverberation after another, I lose more of myself each time.

Feeling lost in my own skin, wandering aimlessly in my own foreign mind.

I open my mouth to speak but my tongue has lost its identity.

I dip now into a shallow pool of personality, borrowed temporarily for the use of my own, from those around me.

I dig and find a suitable tone, i speak at last.

I can trace the tone back to the source and my eyes tell the story of someone else.

Lost, bouncing black circles, moving rapidly around, viewing life’s painting with a new intensity, a naïve genius.

To be naïve is golden, to be a child is supreme, to be a bitch is a shame.

I am lost and found in an instance.

My childlike thoughts circle over each other, the parallels no longer perfect, now running closer and closer to each other, their vibrance shared selflessly.

ah she dances

words for more

can we soar bet we can take this my hand
picture us label me blaze one face me take this

my hood

so much so little

forever more
good things knocking but danger

at the door

no choice- concept physical birth life death
scared to die

wonder why?

a beginner no sinner full of life      just born
happy pie smiles flower thought                    dance

nothing better nothing more

(center)

core of humanity loosen pants                       dance

shove a screamer
breed a dreamer

getting high with my four-five
my mind dances cant ask why

all quiet as she dances

dance
dance
dance
fuck the past
politics bullshitting acting flabbergast
realize we know

EMPATHY IS OUR BONE

-Gwant

Where are the people..

Lessons taken from incidents that killed,  a million people lay dieing on fields

Learning new things from old people, I see your age through all of your reasons

Leading us to self destrustion, I am just like you so why do I feel this leisure of treason

Loving the flame that kindles the fire, Without warmth from the soul the heart is sure to freeze

 

I can not survive in a world that can not believe in itself

Half of us can see us falling

As the other half laugh and watch the weak fall

Who is to pick up after a homeless brawl?

Police and kind people?

Where did they go...

 

No one helps out a drunken limp bimbo

No one reaches out to starving kin folk

No one I've seen has seemed to care

Not one at all

Not even a preacher

 

Our world today is getting old and beaten

Becoming that drunk cripple that lives on the streets

No one wants to help it out

Where are you people?

EXCOMMUNICATION BREAKDOWN :

There is a problem with this translation, a common thought taboo to a "nation", Why the fuck are we here?, What the fuck are we doing? A question of common exploration, tired of sermons with no real explication, pay your tax, fix your existence, outdated ideals clung to with persistence, because even the pastor wonders why? Even his meaning of life is on the fly, Questions , doubt, meaning lost , is faking happiness worth the cost? Are we gaining something that once was lost? Now this sounds like a sermon, But I am not trying to add or take away, from ones essential convictions. I'm just saying really? restrictions? Are we pursuing virtue? or just distinction? Thinking ... " I'm not like him" he is scum, However doubt is stuck to your SOLE like a piece of gum. Because all these letters compiled means shit, I'm just asking is it fucking worth it?

-KEETER

2008

Life in this RV- Cold. Lonely at times. Lovely at times. I am here to be educated. By myself, by nature, by a kindred soul. I have found a sliver of peace but a slice of restlessness. Peace with life- restless with my life’s motion. I wish this RV could move. But it is dead. Sitting cold- parked at the edge of the woods. The enchanted grove is close- my place to toke, listen, and be heard. Here I feel alive- more human and less of an artist. The moon is my friend in any hour of desperation. My wingman when i have no words.

From Art

How do we give of ourselves? How do you give to yourself? Be self-centered at times- close your chackras at times. Be consistent at times. But loosen your grip on it all at times- loose your mind, loose your body, loose time. Wiggle room. Make space in your mind to create your sanctuary for contemplation- and meditation. I have smashed my brain into nothingness, blended it til only goo is left. I have been open to the world- but one must shun away when being watched- judged. When you need someone to know about you- that they can trust and depend on you. Can one do that if your identity is the world and all ideas within?

From Art

Clubbing. Beat your brain to smitherings. Than start over. The world does not need an intervention with all its closest relatives, it does not need a new cycle in the stars to change its ways. The world, and all of us in it, need to say FUCK ME. Get rid of the old and decrepid. Again, create space for the new, and renewed. You. Us. The World. You identify with You. Identify with me. Be with me. I will be you.

From Art

Ah yes the changing of the seasons. The mutable. Change, adapt, find peace within through the torrent outside. A sense of purpose, a fire for motion. Leaves are dancing. Madly! They fall- graze my fingertips, and spin wildly to let us know they are there. One is scooped up in the gregarious wind. It takes you far from home and finally puts you down to rest amongst the yellow, browns, and reds. All dying- but finally independent. Sharing yourself with new ideas- giving your touch away selflessly. The wind is our mode of travel- to break out and break on through. Our happy decaying brown sister who smiles to be this wild thing. This curious and mutable wild thing with only the wind on her side.

From Art

We walk these streets day and night. We pass by each other with our lips puckered and eyes squinted. Our eyebrows furrowed, our heads stooped down. We walk steadily and firmly past one another. We are scared and we are in this spotlight. For seconds the world is staring at you and you pretend not to care. It knows that you stay cool to avoid confrontation- or direction. It knows you avoid friends, you avoid intuition. You prefer to be anonymous- even to yourself. The world though, has no perspective and no bias. The world sees right through the personal marketing.

We wake in the morning and wait for the warmth and comfort the lies of our egos offer us. The lies- I am stable, I am unique, I am a possibility, I am the future. The truth- I am, we are. To be "cool" is to deny others and yourself the true and perfect vision of your body- your soul. All the vulnerabilities existing on the surface. All the scars, the breaks, cracks- all visible- to you and to those you contact.

From Art

We share with each other- we share substance, we share language, we share ideas. Empathy- gained through eliminating cultural differences and relying on the human animal. Perspective- gained through listening to experience- and allowing those people to open up to you. Go to everyone with an attitude to learn- soak in their perspective- adopt part of the human experience they show you. Adopt a look on their face, adopt a phrase, adopt this wisdom to make your life easier- and certainly more interesting. But never concluded.

From Art

Imagination is limitless but this mind is bounded to this physical world. So I jump in the purple two seater and head towards space- turn on, tune in, dropout. Fly from the rat race of Babylon. Forty minutes later and I burst through the restrictive atmosphere- a new realm. Thoughts different, perceptions changed, ego split. I am the driver and the passenger.

From Art

I am decided. Learn my lessons through life, take the high road. School is the low, the agreement of fear. The delay of thought, or at least the delay of inner thoughts, and the encouragement of lazy ego development. I chose to throw myself in the fire. I want to burn, but the scars are more beautiful and more unique than your pale plush shell. Fear is still in my heart but as a calm fear- or more of a knowing. An ironic belief- one we all share. A nasty temptation made up in our heads. I fear to be alone.

From Art

I have ambition but exist in the moment fully. I am philosophical but am dependent on sensuality. I have ideation but lack much of the power to carry out. I need motivation to be successful in Babylon. In the woods I could stay forever- and change nothing but myself. But by flying over Babylon I can sprinkle love and inspiration for those below me. There is fire in the sky- put that fire in your heart and into your life. Consume life- do not coexist with it. Breathe the fire of life through expanding consciousness and empathy. Evolve into a uniquely extroverted being- existing in each other as much as ourselves.

From Art

A universal blanket of human consciousness- one full of love. Look out past our skies and into space- see the stars. Those external personalities manifested internally- our friends and teachers dancing in the black stretch of night. As the sun rises the ego awakens with it. Our fear sputters around all day long but at night our wolf comes out- the moon breathes a new rhythm into our lungs- and we exist as ourselves. Once- we relied on the moon, but light shown down and gave us wisdom- and fear.

From Art

Where is the truth? We can pretend. But we must deduct from our lives our own truth- what makes us happy? How do we make others happy? We must take enough interest in ourselves. I must take an interest in my emotions. I have had my eyes closed, but I can open them. When? How? Will they open at the right time? Will I naturally fall in line with this new sight? Trust myself and my instincts- because I have experiences. I have life, concrete ideas, yes and no. I need life, abstractions, love and suffering. Pain belongs if it is all the pink you can get- sorrow in your heart is favorable as long as you feel.

From Art

But my heart is solid, soul empty, brain disciplined. Yet I am nothing and have nothing, but- but fear and longing for something more. I can say one thing and feel nothing. Sound of love but no flutter. Pain is the start- to a new being. Physical and Emotional. I am on the path to learn- to love and be loved. I- We must let each other in. Because we will find ourselves already there. Two souls meet- two abstractions braided into one. One Love. One Love Forever.

From Art

The wind, it pours over us. And we pour over each other. The next step of evolution shown right now- acceptance, trust, and loyalty. Loyalty to each other and the passion of life both of us share. We can fly, we burn, we fight and die in the end for and because of each other. We die and arise again-as ash and dust. The beautiful forceful karmic nature of the universe. Consciousness, practical madness- followed by nirvana- the final silencing of our minds. Final acceptance of what we are. We are a part of everything but once we loose our tether we finally become everything. At this moment though- we are alive. Get up and dance- or sit down and melt away. Just be- and become- nothing. The final blossom- the escape from protective Mother Earth.

From Art

Protected: An Active Mind

Ecstasy
I place a pill on my tongue and smile. I let it sit there for a while, let it soak in. I want to taste the magic. I swish some fruit punch in and the pill can no longer be seen. I am about to be different. My consciousness will be altered and there is nothing I can do about it. My thoughts will be erratic, my body will be trembling, my soul will come. Ecstasy makes my body feel psychedelic, like LSD unites the mind and soul, MDMA unites the body and soul. I am coming up, a little anxious for the experience to envelope me and the psychonauts I was with. We walk away from comfort and head through the path to the wild ocean that is waiting for us. I am swept up in a rush of wind as I break through the protective dunes and into the open beach. My mind is gone, at least the mind I am used to. I am beautiful right now, I am confident, I am an amazing lover. I step closer to the water and as it makes its way to my toes, the moon breaks through the restrictive clouds and shines down on us below. We muse about how there must be people living on the moon already, a conspiracy-the government has been moving people up there for years, and we are stuck here on a dying planet. I take a step down from that thought and notice the water again. I take a few steps forward so the waves crash on me every time. As the fleeting sheet of water is swept under the newer bigger wave, I am renewed. The bad energy is taken out of my body, sucked out from beneath my toes and I am left happier and refreshed. I take a picture- the beach, the ocean stretching to the horizon, the moon with its light cascading through the night clouds, and the shimmer of that light on the ocean before me.

From Art

Candyflip Crash
I feel the strong dull thud of my heart’s bell clanging repeatedly against my iron chest. Reverberation after another, I loose more of myself each time. Feeling lost in my own skin, wandering aimlessly in my own foreign mind. I open my mouth to speak but my tongue has lost its identity. I dip now into a shallow pool of personality, borrowed temporarily for the use of my own, from those around me. I dig and find a suitable tone, i speak at last. I can trace the tone back to the source and my eyes tell the story of someone else. Lost, bouncing black circles, moving rapidly around, viewing life’s painting with a new intensity, a naïve genius. To be naïve is golden, to be a child is supreme, to be a bitch is a shame. I am lost and found in an instance. My childlike thoughts circle over each other, the parallels no longer perfect, now running closer and closer to each other, their vibrance shared selflessly.

From Art

Psychedelic Bodies
Image. There are so many levels of our image that we try and use at points in our existence. We slice ourself into pieces just big enough for the crowd to swallow.
And dangerous. The night sweeps us up and our old egos are thrown out. We are renewed at last, but only to return to misinformed friends and an old image. They think I am someone else. The stars determine who we are, how we define ourselves, how others perceive us. Who are you? I am the archer. My arrow shoots beyond reason and practicality. I shoot for the stars, for the unknown. I will not climb to the top of the mountain, I will soar over it.

From Art

DeMiTri
I walk in slowly, not sure what to expect from the next thirty minutes, my eyes rattling with anticipation and my hurt pounding from excitement. We glide upstairs and pack the bowl, weed nugget on bottom-hefty dose of DMT on top. I breathe in deeply-smoking DMT is my fate at this moment. I prepare myself for the experience in a short amount of time, more breath and more ego destruction. A quick word to my associates mother followed by a brisk walk to the back- I notice a trampoline and am drawn to it from previous positive mushroom trips– I position myself comfortably. The spark is shown and the crystals disappear behind the bud, soaking it, then the whole bowl is finished off with the rest of my pull.

From Art

Seconds later I look back at the bowl and I notice its effects already, my glance moves to the background and I see all the plants growing, the sky twirling and becoming pink. I fall back on the trampoline gazing up at the sky and fall into a trance. A woman stares down at me for a while as the sky behind her is dancing like the northern lights on ecstasy. The actual time spent in that perfect world is now lost to me, like a dream I had, slips further and further out of consciousness until there is nothing left.

From Art

BUSTIN BALLS
There is no reason to believe in God.
There is a beginning to this universe, a logical progression to life, a documented evolution to man. All of this, is the transformation of matter, morphed by temperature and pressure into what we observe today. There is no x-factor to life or consciousness, definitely no souls, and definitely no plan for any of us. Everything that makes up our identity’s, our bloated personalities, our beliefs, is a result of our experience with life thus far. If you were raised in a Christian family, you will believe their shit, and project your image as a Christian.

From Art

If you present yourself as a believer your so-called personality is a lie. Your image as a self-proclaimed prophet extends your ego beyond recognition.

From Art

Candyflip
We as humans are a self contained unit. All of our senses, everything we see, touch, taste, hear, and smell, is cataloged and presented only in your mind, in your brain. When meditating on LSD and MDMA, you exist at that time, only in your frontal lobe. You can physically feel the thoughts in the front portion of your head, you feel as if you occupy that space, living at that moment in your own head. You can begin walking through your brain, going down strange and old avenues, mixing everything, a kaleidoscope of thoughts, memories, and creativity. As you can now travel in your brain in a more physical, recognizable manner, you can approach different memories and emotions in a new way, an unheard of way. As you stand up to yourself in your own mind, you become a new consciousness, your body language mimics perfectly your emotional center, your thoughts become increasingly erratic and rotary, and you cease to exist in most practical areas of your brain. You loose touch on socializing, focusing, and everyday problem solving. You become a momentary master of dreams, storytelling, colorful fantasies. You travel deep into the center of your frontal lobe, breaching the most inner creative barriers, taking hold to something more of You than ever before, and without the distractions of normal thoughts, you can perform new tasks in your mind, new analysis, new logic.

From Art

Bombing Kolob
Emerson introduced me to thought. Thoreau destroyed my ambition. Pink Floyd put the melodical ring of difference in my heart.
We put a name on what makes us up. Authors, Friends, Music, etc. What is better though? Be made up of men, or made up of drugs? What is better to change you? A man that has been dead for two centuries, or a substance you hold in your gut this moment. Who can you trust more? Your mind being morphed by words, or stripped and rebuilt again by psychoactives?

From Art

The Fiction We Live
Tripping mushrooms, smoking cigarettes, doing lines of oxycodone. I crush up a muscle relaxer roughly, toss it with some skunk, pack the bowl, and we inhale the chemicals. My hands find their way to your face. I gently roll my fingers over you, grab hold of you. You concede and slide closer to me. Your hands are on me now, moving up and down, caressing every part of my being.
I put a huge smile on my face. Its never felt this good. The happiness pushes us away from this place. We pack lightly and head for the horizon, you and me, running from sobriety, running from responsibility, running from everyone else. We find comfort in each other, we find comfort in our intoxication, we find comfort in being here. Nothing else matters right now. A state of perfection has been reached and I do not ever want to come down.

From Art

Wind
Freedom. Love. Happiness and that breath of fresh air.
Standing tall as the wind pours over you. Throw your head back and breathe once more. Throw everything out of your mind and live right now, only for that force. That carefree invisible coat flowing delicately over the curvature of our faces. Our hair is tossed back and a smile is revealed. Our eyes are closed, we do not see the blackness, we do not notice the absence of sight. We live for right now. We live, for this feeling.

From Art

This could last forever and I would be completely fulfilled. I wish this would last forever. I wish I could be taken up with the wind and fold myself into it. I want to become wind. I want to wrap you up with freedom. I want to blow past you and be the reason you are happy. Let me sweep up your worry and dispose of it across the world. Maybe when we die our consciousness is reduced to wind, to raindrops, to anything beautiful. Our matter renewed by trees, insects, and anything beautiful. We can become more than what we are. We can become less than what we seem.

From Art

Psychedelics
Mushrooms. Food from the Gods. I first tried mushrooms in the summer of 2007, at my house, surrounded by several close friends. I ate a couple grams of homegrown and 480 mg DXM, and prepared for the unknown. That night was filled with strange wonder, laughter, and freeness. This was one of my first psychedelic experiences, and the first that I really had a relaxed fun time with. Combining DXM with psychedelics, I find, reduces anxiety, body pains, and allows for a much smoother, colorful trip. At the time of this experience I had only smoked marijuana a handful of times before, and tried low doses of DXM a couple times. So you can imagine how pleasantly surprised I was by the immense stoned feeling you get throughout your entire body with mushrooms, and in this case, combined with synthetic morphine(DXM).
The visuals you may encounter are usually subtle, but obviously increase with dosage. You may see the walls appearing to breathe, solid objects become liquified, and planes in your vision separating, making distinct layers of sight. Things have a way that they glow, a gentle ray of light shining behind all things, alluding to some sort of enlightenment. In comparison to LSD, mushrooms use much less mind trickery, meaning you can control your thoughts much easier than LSD. This does not mean you can’t have a bad trip, because believe me you can. You can get caught up with the body high, and panic because it feels too good. LSD is different in that its a stimulant, making you more aware of your body and it’s functions, whereas mushrooms make you feel like goo.

Sally in the Sky
I pull the chilled smoke through Van Gogh’s starry night chamber. The pearly white is shown through the greens, blues, yellows, and reds. I stand up, walk outside, and collapse on the nearest lawn chair. Disoriented for a second, my hands start to feel clammy, and I feel my body temperature escalate quickly. Breathe deeply the new air, and look up to the blue sky. Something is coming out, a woman ripping the sky open, finally she is through. I hope she doesn’t notice me, I am scared of her. Soon she peers down at me, her eyes bigger and brighter than the sun, she looks at me curiously. I sink back in my chair but never stop gazing up at her. Her massive arm comes swinging down at me, her pendulum barely missing my chest. Closer and closer, she has a wryly smile now. She knows something I don’t. I wish she would speak to me, I wish I could understand why she is here, tormenting me endlessly. Finally she folds back into the comfortable blue sky I am used to. I shake it off, dry my hands, try and gather my composure. What the fuck was that?

Lock it Up
My back rests firmly on a white oak, my head points up towards the sky. Clear skies, not a cloud in sight. The pale blue is only blocked by the long brown fingers reaching for the sky, and beyond. Reaching and stretching, calmly in our eyes as they seem slow and cautious to get to their destination. I reach back and touch the friendly tree behind me. Its alive.
Swaying now, wrapping tightly around me. Its fingers form tight ropes across my chest, I can not seem to stop this. My knife does not do much, the tree is still winning, still coaxing me into staying here. The bands now seem unbreakable, so I give up and willingly accept my future. Stay forever locked into nature and see the world pass us by, because we will be here forever. We will be here long after us.
The certain future of humanity is ultimate destruction. I believe that is also the certain outcome of our universe. A cycle of life shown on earth brought about by the cycle of life through the cosmos and beyond. An end brings about a new beginning.
When matter is sucked into a black hole it is destroyed completely, all information ever tied to it is gone. What if God falls prey to one? If he resides in his own universe, will he not be subject to it’s laws? What if God was destroyed and all things tying his existence together eliminated, discharged with all of the other exhaust? Because God exists forever means that he will inevitably be destroyed by nature. His ultimate power will be his ultimate downfall. Leaving a Godless universe behind. One that I believe already exists, right here.
Because God will one day be destroyed, it shows that he was never God at all. The tenets that God has put forth thus are lies, and a mockery of what reality actually is. The comfort is no longer worth it, uproot yourself and turn away from religion, and face your new future.

From Art

DXM and Fun
I can not peel a smile off of my face. I look in the mirror and a upside down triangle is glaring right back at me. My teeth grow to fangs, and my head transforms to that of a dogs. Large does of DXM have this affect. I look away from the mirror finally and reach to turn on the light switch. I see my arm moving upwards, but I feel like it is not even me that decided this move. The light turns on and I look back at the mirror cautiously. My emotions when I saw my newly shown face is a mix of fear and curiosity. Who is this looking back at me? Why won’t he remove his stare deep into my eyes? The mirror only holds my attention for so long before I want to go running. When you feel this light on your feet, this fluid, you want to dance, you want to leap as far as you can, even if it is only a couple inches.
Later that night, I got the usual tunnel vision and major disorientation that accompanies long hours of intoxication with a dissociative. I never got to sleep that night. Too many colors and too many tightly formed kaleidoscopes taking up my attention.

Bad Trips
Darkness prevails in my mind
Emptiness sustained in my heart
I am lost and found in a moment
How can it be this hard?
Fight with yourself
feel loose in your own skin
your ribs shiver incessantly
rip out your chills
and bathe in your own blood
trifle with the thought of suicide
beg yourself to do it
pleading to end everything
it ends quietly
pill after pill tossed back
choking down death
waiting anxiously for it to come
i want my vision to go black
i want my body to slip easily off the edge of life
sliding down blazingly fast
no slowing down
overwhelming feelings coming on too fast
you give up on your ride to freedom
keel over and pour your secrets out for everyone to see
you tried to give up
but you quit before you could
its a real shame
i would have loved to see you here

LSD and More (written November 2007)
LSD-25
I have been dosing LSD-25 pretty often the last couple weeks. It all started with one badass sunday when everybody I hang out with simultaneously decided to get really fucked up, throw worry to the wayside, and just have a comfortable time with one another. I had bought a vile and made about 100 doses on jube-jubes sugar candies a couple days before so I was feeling rather generous and just wanted to party. So I sold several, gave way several, and ate even more. By the end of the day my bag I was caring of 30 was empty and over ten people were having the time of their lives. Pan’s Labyrinth provided the entertainment inside, whereas cigarettes, conversation, and intoxication did outside. Soon those of us outside decided to smoke a blunt, so we piled into my friend S’s car, picked up A, and just had a fucking fun time riding around smoking, listening to music, dancing, and laughing. When we got back we picked up right where we left off. Every person there was on LSD, and there was an assortment of other drugs going around. I had Salvia, Xanax, DXM, alcohol, LSD, and of course marijuana. This combination allowed me to become someone else. I became more aware of how to treat people, how to really make friends, and how to be a real person. I knew I was the catalyst for everyone’s fun day, and it really helped my psychologically to know that such a thing was possible. I have to say this was one of the best days I had in my era of substance abuse and experimentation (which is far from over).
After this sunday I was eating approximately 5-10-15 hits every other day, or sometimes without even skipping a day. I noticed that I get less of the body trip, which is neither bad nor good, but I got all of the positive things. I had a mood lift, stimulation, and noticeable light trails and distortion in my sight all of the time. My fantasies took the stage in my mind more often than not. I could sit in a room for hours dreaming. With closed eyes and imagination I would be thrown into a world of color. I would fly towards the end of the tunnel with the most spectacular lights coming right for me. I would see what I consider as, visualization of thought. My vision would blacken, and small kidney shapes would form, most of them green, yellow, blue, purple, and red. These shapes would then start rotating around a fixed center, get closer to that center, and shapes would start falling into it. This abyss in my mind, is my backbone for thought. These kidney shapes are just data, neurons with information, falling seemingly at random into the center of this particular “wormhole.” I see the brain with many of these wormholes, all connected perfectly so there is no redundancy, all just turning on and off, sending simple signals interpreted by another part of our brain, our consciousness.
Salvia and More
One of the most psychoactive experiences I can achieve is through the use of meditation. Not that is the most intense, it is just that it can easily help you change in a clear minded, positive way. With the use of DMT or Salvia, the user will loose complete touch with reality.
Something that always makes me smile though, is an experience I had with LSD, DXM, Xanax, Alcohol, Marijuana, and the catalyst, Salvia. Without the natural herb salvia, the trip seemed just like a party, but after taking a couple hits of salvia, you become humble. It fucks you up that much. I closed my eyes after I took my first hit. Immediately I am thrown into a tunnel of color. The most beautiful colors in the world, so vibrant, so fast, so loving and unassuming. In the center was what looked like a DNA double helix structure, spinning but always keeping the same distance from my vision. I can honestly tell you, that I get a immense wave of emotion whenever I ponder this experience. It was unlike any other time I had tried salvia. This was warm and friendly.
Other times the message seemed random and unconnected. I would see row after row of aunt jemima syrup lining every wall. I would be transported back in time, back to grocery shopping with my mother. Just the two of us, it seemed like we were in love. I trusted her so much. I love my mother. And without this drug would I have realized my appreciation for her? I do not fucking know.
So what about people that never dipped into psychoactive drugs? Will they ever reach their true potential. Hell yes they will, they just wont have the emotional side to life that others carry. Everything I see is like I have never seen it before. Every view is taken in at once, every smell is noted, every breathe is appreciated. Something I rarely mention is noise. Maybe because the echoes in my mind destroy my love for it. Maybe because I can easily recreate it. With visuals it is obviously more difficult. But again, through the use of psychedelics I can attain a new level of consciousness. A level based completely on visualization. It seems I can rewire myself, my self-contained brain, my processor, me.
Are the drugs worth the risk? Alan Watts put it best when he said “Once you get the message hang up the phone.”