The Soft Walls of Her Form

Time Sculpts Space
Into Tender soft Penis
Warm Tired Worm
Tenderized
As a an Old Self
Returns to innocence

prepares to receive new blood
in new wombs
as newborn babes
with new soft worm,
Warm
germ in all beings

Til Shakti dances circles
‘Round Shivas slumber
Forcing Him to reMember
And
the rising fu(h)ror
Of Hard stone phallic pillar
of eager thrust
into a new dawn of being

Awakens

Full of Rapture
And forces into full
Stature

a Seeding Self

Aching to Penetrate
The Mysteries
Of
The Primal Dark
Her Who Holds the Stark Contrast
Of His Force

In the soft walls

Of Her Form


CLJ 3-10-25

Time Tenderizes All Things

Time Tenderizes all things
Or turns to stone
It seems

Petrified of Life as Saturn’s Scythe
Claims his harvest
Stalking behind unwinding Lives

Or

Soft moist meat and juice pulverized
From the Past Let Go Of
Ritually
A nurturing broth simmering

For Others to Eat

when You are gone
Traveling
Deeper

Within the Dream

The Seasons of life are seasonings
And spice
For the ripe fruit
And hot stewing
Brew
Of truth

That once clothed itself in Me~s and You~s
Seeds to roots
Til Leaving
Once
Again

To climb back through
A new womb

Tender
as a new born babe
Laying in wait
For Saturns sharp Blade
As hot red blood
Nurtures
Times intrepid Tomb.

CLJ 3-10-25

To Burn Eternally

When we are old and wise…
too open our I’s…
We Yearn to live our life
Backwards
Slowly crawling thru River Lethe
Toward Innocence
Eventually
crawling right back into the Womb

To do It All
Again

Eternity is In Love
With the Productions of Time

The Fool hides Immortality
In his travel bag
Winks
Smiles
Looks over the abyss
And steps off the Edge

A Lifetime of pain
Perhaps
All for the taste
Of One Mortal Kiss

And This

Is what keeps the Wheel in Spin

To Truly Love
An
Other

We Must Forget Again and again

“If My Love is Blind
Then I Don’t want to See
Am I left to Burn
And Burn Eternally”
She’s a Mystery to Me~s

CLJ 3–9-2025

Open Casket Viewing

Open Casket Viewing

Approximately four days before I died
I called your house
to remind you
of my funeral.
But you were not home.
And so I crawled off
into the woods
to die alone,
without social gathering
and without open casket viewing.
And the moment after
I breathed my last breath
as I began to drift from consciousness
I heard your voice
in the distance
calling for me.
But it was too late.
For I had already perished
into the depths of my own denial-
the denial that you cared for me.
And now I am dead
and I can still
hear you calling for me...

12-16-1998

( deep down in the abyssal waters of the Descent….From Volume 6 Linguistic Trickster)

The Neutral Zone

Old art from around 2002
The Neutral Zone is the Creation Zone
I am a chosen Enemy Of The State Of
Mind
That tries to tug at my I
And keep me Blind
To NeutralEyez is to surf the Callosum
I call it stepping into the Center
of the Spindle
of the Core Processor
The zero point
The jester is the fool
who has come full circle
Creating worlds
Taut InTension
With Time & Space
Words are worLds
We fertileyez EL.ectromantically
Sealed
In Mag.Dalenes Vas Ben Clausum

Neither HemisPhere
Will win the War Of Fear
Within my Mirror

I Play in the Zone Of Zero
A fancyFool Looking
InWard
To
And
From
center

3-6-25

🌟🃏🌟

I am the Pupil in the Center of the Eye

The clothes you're wearing, the room, the house, the city that you're in. Everything in it started out in the human imagination. Your lives, your personalities, your whole world. All invented. All made up. All the wars, the romances. The masterpieces and the machines. And there's nothing here but a funny little twist of amino acids, playing a marvelous game of pretend. 

🗝🕸🃏Alan Moore, Promethea, Vol. 5🃏🕸🗝

👁️🌟Vagabond Rambler🌟👁️

I am the pupil in the center of the eye
I am the pupae in the center of the sky
I am the purpose of the moon and the mind
I am the purplepink lustre of the rotting rind.

I am moved not by your manipulation
I am smoothed not by your capitulation
I am removed from your observation
I am soothed by your undulation.

But what does this mean, what does this mean
Where does this lead me, the silver queen
the rampant wanderer of time and rhyme
the vagabond rambler through moistened minds?

And where does this take me, what forgotten land
what does this make me, and by whose hand
where will I lay my weary head my friend
when the path that I tread winds to the end?

🔥CLJ 2005🔥

#sovereignwarriorswakethedream #blissninja #seethescriptforwhatitis #marvelousgameofpretend #thehumanimagination #alanmoore #dreamyourselfawake

https://www.mdpi.com/2077-1444/14/8/994

Scripture

I realized once again that what I believed myself to be was an arbitrary deformation, a rational mask floating in the infinite unexplored internal shadows. Later, I understood that diseases do not actually sicken us; they sicken what we believe ourselves to be. Health is achieved by overcoming prohibitions, quitting paths that are not right for us, ceasing to pursue imposed ideals, and becoming ourselves: the impersonal consciousness that does not define itself.

Alejandro Jodorowsky, The Dance of Reality: A Psychomagical Autobiography

Died Of Consumption

it’s called a news FEED for a reason, 
You are being force fed a juicy stew
Of engineered ‘news’ and brewed unTruths
Because the newcAge zoo runs on Loosh

But I don’t Eat
From the hand that serves
Genetically Modified Urges
And emotional purges

I just chuckle
An 8 second scroll unrolls
Image after image
Meant to unFold
Inside the neural nest

Keep eating. Yum yum.
At this Point in the Game
Every single thing you react to
Was baked in an artificial maze
To Daze your neural pathways.

The script
Is ripping your fiLes
Compressed aggression
Pretending to Lifes
Sudden
Happenings.

It’s a PotLuck

Don’t you know

(Gravestones read
“Died of Consumption”)

Or

“Gave Too Many Fucks
About Engineered
ShitShows”

2-26-25

In Prisms I See Your Face

In Prisms
I see your face
plastered around me
you are here
beside me
in essence.
And should I fall,
would I be gathered in
by your gentle hands?
Or would I crash
fatally
into the cold
barren ground?
I focus in on you
I see past the flesh
and I know
you are there.
I dreamed of you
Once.
I begged for you-
and you came
Alive
in my world.

October 1999

Your World

Your World


I float through your world
weightlessly
spinning around and around and
around again
It took me so long to find this place
and I am now locked in
I have broken down your atmosphere
desecrating your perfect air
in attempt to escape from here
But your walls do not fall down.
Your eyes are oceans of purest blue
I swim and swim and swim
in hopes of getting through
to you.
But your skies are painted dark
and your storm sucks me in
and now I'm drowning once more
sinking to your ocean floor
my body engulfed by your unforgivable sin.
Your lips part like the red sea
beckoning me
promising to fulfill my reveries
your voice is transparent
your message is clear
I crawl inside your crystalline tear
urging you to join me
as I slip down your cheek smoothly, calmly
hiding from my only fear.
Your aura attracts me
distracts me
makes me think that you are free-
just an orb of energy
to gather me in and suck me dry
so that you can watch the world float by
in your lonely, barren eternity.

10-25-1999