The Chant Poem

Capturers seek to take the mind,
But will never steal the Heart
Flawed by the way,
Never stay from the start
Don't listen to the informers,
For the eye be evil in nature
Molded not from earth,
But from worldly paper

Propaganda is their architecture,
Deception is their rapture
Light is to our vapor,
Oneness is truth of taper
Never fear,
Here is now,
Take one step each time,
You will know how

Suffering banks illusion when you allow,
But thou shall know the forever vow
Formed from nothingness,
Aglow far from ego
The experience of endless vertigo,
Away from foolish pride
Sided with the Most High,
H.I.M. that grants us this life

Framed in the omniverse,
They try to spoon us lies
Divided by their selfish advice,
Still trying to criminalize the wise
Don't let it cage the truth that underlies,
For the skies answers the "whys"
Vast in freedom, endless in observation,
Baptized from disguise

Still there exists pain,
Still there exists love and truth
The balance of humanity
Is more than the eye can see,
Money cannot buy the Covenant,
But awareness can guarantee the life of the Tree,
Branch out, float in the space around you,
Land where you be, and the knowledge of freedom is guaranteed.

CCTV Love Poem

If I had to calculate the hours and dollars spent
To record the disconnected urban civilians
To ensure our justice is met,
I would indefinitely go insane
From the time frame that has created
A brave new 1984 society showing off for the lenses
Caught by a one eye reflection,
Jostled by the Americana fabrication,
Leaving freedom waiting like
Insects digging for hopelessness,
Like the anarcho-pie-thrower at the Murdoch trial
Dripping in loony froth captured by point-and-shoots,
Invisible now to the riots of London towns
That were set ablaze in the corporate gaze
Of banging glass sound explosions
By ghetto squats claimed by poor comrades
That were established unsafe from community colleges
For murder-loving poems of war veterans,
Sullen in their sad states of drunken loneliness
Served by the communist and socialist clowns
Crooning at dusk when the zombie croaks come out
And their heads full of lead to ease the trauma
While blurring each day by mind control,
Nodding at the elite teleprompter
Where information babbles like the brooks bubbling in opaque bongs
Glowing from a television sets mocking and laughing and laughing,
Laughing, laughing, laughing, as if we should be smiling at a time like this
When punched walls becomes the common decor
Along with burnt marks & ashes on coffee stands
Struggling for art madness in airbrushed models
Between their Photoshopped cleavages and camel-toed personalities
Lost in fantasies of Film Bums lost in fictional conversations
Lost in back bars of bare backs lost in jointed over thinking, dwelling
Since there's no work to be done except internally
Where the market fails to profit and lacks yuppie Viagra
To slave for the Federal Reserve fiat currency
Weighing our wallets and emptying our brain stem juice,
Shackled by the institutionalized cops coming on webcams
From their lost pot of coffee crack baffled at the marijuana mind,
Condemned by fundamentalist rapture flashers
And the Zionist courts cupped by the sack of the anti-scientist
Hitting puberty in truck stop bathrooms under etched "good time" numbers,
Late bloomed and consumed by dimensions of meaningless realities
Marked by tattooed chips implanted with 1010011010 designs
Listening to our very conversations and nakedness,
For the perverted politician pounding on the taxes and
Skywriting the slums of the low income population,
And scatter brains to decorate the street lamps with colour,
Besides the blue lights echoing sirens
To shatter the security of the night walkers.

All that I need are pictures floating from balcony trees singing
Of dead pin-ups and closeup plant crystals coating my blood stream,
Infesting and caressing balanced pituitary & pineal glands
In order to stand the experience of rejecting ego plans
That would rather indulge in physical pleasure,
Which never comes and blows away in rip tides
On seas of everlasting security of the cosmic royalty
That lays in the hearts of all mere beings
Who are awaken, awoken, and seeking,
Across bell-free towers and strip malls
& strip clubs and freeways,
Looking back on something not exactly aware
Of their coughing/coffin of double helix codes
Sown in oil buttons of our Chinese robes.

Lo an' behold! Bottom feeders,
On the railway roads
Sleeping by sewage plants
& stripped concrete streets in a cold season,
There's always something better
Than this same sleepy town
Down and out of well water baths
With the same angry barber shop loitered by teenaged druggies
Looking for the same way out as everyone else.

Oh closed-circuit cunt-screen, why must you bother me?
Why must you record for the govern-lords
That tatter like young Napoleons smacking a tether ball
Back and forth, a scratch for a scratch in the loom of evenin's moon?

For every still taken by store,
Fuck you,
For every turned neck lens staring back at me and them and us,
Fuck you,

For every recorded call and surveillance stolen innocence,
Fuck you.
Fuck you grand ol' government and the Satan that backs you,
Fuck you for hijacking this state of being,

For every cigarette banned and drug demonized,
Fuck you,
Fuck you,
Fuck you.

Fuck. You.

Blur

Her eyes where strawberries half eaten

by ant hills and parachuted pills

popping passenger paperhanger small talks

clocked in silver tongue look away confessions

and she bit the skins of many bottom lips

just in case it wasn't a mistake of imaginations,

loving herself in lone reflected lust

locked inside mistrusted paranoid rust

rotting under thousands of mind fucks

floating in blue lights captured by slight glances,

caught between the valleys and troughs of nothing's cost.

"Ctrl, Alt, Delete" they cry,

"Rise and rise or everyone will die!"

Fought on the campaigns of fear'd hive slaves

Stitching their fallen morals on foreheads.

She sees repeated seas sunk under tree trunks

stuck in grimy lost-thought stillness,

vanished by impaired drones

dragging their fist in everyone's brain.

Will her claims remain ignored

by Do-Not-Disturb door signs

or hushed by market masters

after truth speakers leaking troubled instincts?

Something & Nothing

Spools of endless planes

driven over cycled chains,

long, thought-gone and lived,

whether found or ignored,

stretching immeasurable space echoes

endlessly unifying all that exist

within a tree cosmos,

expanding/retracting/blooming/f a d i n g,

quenched by everlasting knowledge-dew

proving the beyond that was never gone--

it's living in our head-room,

pulsating light windows in resume.

There's Nothing that you see,

& Something that you don't believe,

everything that you will be

manifests in your dreams.

Repeat After Me: I Am Free

Running, always in circular patterns carving

Truth within the caves and valleys of my brain

Etched and typed in the eyes of the few

Who seek to expand the infinite walls crashing around them

A continuous fleeting wanting fading & overcoming

Static paradox pushing through thought-water

Floating in plain view, bobbling on the surface

Closing lids for dream-speak lucid escapements

Morning becomes this different view from night paranoia

Sailing on a fragment of insecurity and misunderstandings

The words held on for so long becomes an outcast

Claimed for the occult when the truth is too hard to stomach

Upside down deadbeats born to accommodate law,

To serve you food, to cut your hair, or to uplift anti-nature

With their rules and the rules made from nothingness

Which they fear because we are all fucked

Happiness isn't anything more than a chemical boost from neutral

Since everything in reality is what we make of it

There has never been a matter or circumstance to create emotion

Just a false illusion to justify reactions

Inside-Out Phenomena

I chalked telepathic progressing teaching fields in concrete gardens


to farm dead calls of road picketers by the stumbled railway voices


so far from realistic waste art that a bashing tumor brings


a cheap city back blood bath radioactive, old and shared.


The future drunk reasons for tired souls tied across landlines


where crows sit along and starve


have become tattooed landmarks


staring down at the loss of humanity wishing for a break in the brainwashing.


Dunn becomes the wires, a fence following drawings


underneath seasons with insane phone trees against the streets with light torches


paired in threes of fleeting sacrificial dream keys for your jeweled casket rings


when you become used for enemy funding while elites blow streets of civilian children


& multimillion slaves go about their days as if nothing is happening.


If I had everything on your wall, I'd be just as stupid and shallow


as the mop bucket of your Mexican maid laid between cracks of pavilion seats


in raunchy downtown peep theaters that matches your fake tan and veneered smile


for secluded stolen states of genocidal rein filling up my pocket notebook


of all the ignorance that I see everyday.


Shared and old, radioactive blood bath


back city cheap tumor brings bashing waste art


so far from stumbled railway voices of road picketers


to farm dead calls teaching fields in concrete gardens


chalked in telepathic progress.

Alive in Make Believe Town

The ward plays sad songs
And you lay in your prismatic mind,
Unfolding the paper planes
Swimming in your conscious ocean;
So in tuned to find room
For bottled poems like potions
To cure your mad eye.
There's a man freezing
Outside the bars
In a blistered sun
And you sung about him
Long ago, after the snow
Had dried in the afternoon,
Too soon to miss the show.
Lassoed, lonely with no where to go,
Feeling low like no tomorrow.
Forever is always tongue-in-cheek
Where speaking easy comes naturally.
We get so tied down
To get around 'Make Believe' town,
Spinning reality on a table top,
Too fast to stop
Listening to sleeping dreams
And empty silent telephone rings.
We must be going wild
Since the night takes a while
To fall for tasteless jokes,
Hooked on noses of common folk.
You never know when I'll make room
For a bothered tune
About a mad girl
Like the one in every world
That curls her fingers in her hand
After listening to a bad band
And a raunchy news story
On the black one-eyed screen.
We become these pre-criminals
Waiting to be searched
Like up-skirted brothel babes
Bending over for another round of feel-ups.
Is this the only touch that gets nauseous?
No one should live with a feeling like this.

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Rapture Blues (Goodbye Dumb World)

This is the last morning I'll ever see
And the last evening waiting for me.
No one knows when it will end,
But everyone is pretty positive.
That the hologram will twist a joke
And I'll toke in the name of God
--God, have they taken this too far?
Oh, forget it, I know the answer to this.
I wonder where their consciousness will float.
Will it sail on an endless boat,
Tied to numerical rights and false hope
Recorded in a historical cope?
You can't run the show
With a billion billboard frights,
Lighting the emptiness in small pocketed mights
To fall for your rounds: let it go.
We all hunger for something real
But do we have to distract for a meal?
I won't be apart of the cruel games
Because everything still remains the same.

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Tomahawks in Libya

America thinks it can resolve
The situations that don't concern us
I don't see how it's any part of me
I'm not falling for your blood lust

What is peace when no one's free
When your fingers on the trigger of a war machine
How many will die for us to feel safe
Yeah I do have a problem your crooked face

Standing in the line of fire
Barbaric acts of selfishness
You don't care about the people
You only want to seek "righteousness"

I can't believe they award scum like you
Who are you trying fool
There's nothing you can do
To excuse your terrorist mood

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