Patterns patterns on the wall HumPty Splattered from the Fall Broken Shells are cloaked in veils Of masked mouths in modern sprawl Twisting tales and telling lies And pointing Fingers at the I's We build the burden of our own demise Fill the garden with Sown Reprise With complicit cowardice we cast the Die And wait for Fu(h)ror to Rise the Tide Oh sweet Souls who hide enDemic Panic Beneath the ruse of false compassion We Wove this World and Play within It Keyholes In Cells we Formed and Fashioned
A witch I am not, nor sorceress, nor Magician manipulating thought and mind No wizard am I, nor priest divine, nor Queen in the temple of space and time… Instead, in red, and black and white A jester playing with alchemical sight A fool whose tools are broken rules That twist and turn in spools of light… A psychopomp that swims thru veils A trickster telling twisting tales That provoke the nodes and neural codes To waken from their Prizm Cells
The mind points out it’s own precision The pen tip presses upon the page The blank sheets are washed and dried as bleeding crimes in tangled lines Are hung to dry with dripping rage
The mind draws lines with its own decisions The desperate drama of dreams debate The Carpet rolls out the curtains rise The Callosum opens its Myelin eyes As actors weave axioms upon the stage
The mind circles round its own confusion The neural nodes nap within the cage The fasciculus finds and hooks the hive The fissure formed from space and time Is stitched to heal with macrophage….
….the ritual bell, the wafting smell of Burning sages in prizm cells, Hanging from the dangling nous, The heart bares scars from tearing youth From the of searing truth of heaven and hell…
…the eye of the hurricane is on its way, to ransack and flapjack the core of all our brains, speeding up the rate at which we perceive the perforation, the fate of which could rip and tear a nation, a station, a fusion of minds incoherent redundant grasping for meaning but dormant fleeing the feeling of torment peeling the rots from the dealings and knots from the zealous run leper run
run leper run its all just for fun on a level so deep its not understood does it make it less Real does it make it less concrete does it make it worth the run the gun the gripping of the sun in attempt to hide defeat
SMILE on the periphery it is a storm, a chaos, an insistence on resistance but at the core, it’s unchanged, it neverwas and neverwillbe, and neveris, but still existing giving us the balance to create lands in time hands in line to co create with malleable laws
implicate order enfolded within each explicate experience shooting out from the source in fractals of difference and intensity and vibration and density till the impulse reaches completion loses its thrust coarsens its vibration yet mimics the One and then begins its evolution back to the Within with all the cohesion of experience and lessons and soulsparks and mouldings holding on to Awareness as it ascends back to the heart of the hologram to enrich the totality of all that is with each divine perspective as it returns and ReTurns the wheel as the cycle continues and spins out again the impulsion the force the flickering light of love to enforce the dynamic dance of desperate dreams……………
Neo keeps phyting But he never wins A young seed planted Stays right Where it is It’s all A game of poles n holes Seeds in Soils And sines in souls Aligned in Time And Min.e.d from molds Too loose for truth To blindly fold As Neos Phyte And Architects build The battleground Where Agents Will PreScriptZions into Being As Oracles play at seeing Through the Dream Or through the Codes As Bleeding Seams To implode the nodes As Neo Phytes for Trinity Inside the Womb of Destiny ImPlantAtIon FertileEyes Jesters Gestating In DisGuise Poking holes in ParaDise ReVersing poles as sacrifice Alchemy of space and Time The Lamed Smith goads the Mine Turning Metals into Mind……
Shhhhhh…… Don’t write so loud- They might hear (Prying eyes that hide Inside Minds that fear…) These words tiptoe Down stairs Under where No one else knows… Somas Rose So full of Charge I fear I am larger Than Life can hold…. Lead into Gold As SunLight UnFolds Me From this bed Of salted tears I made As Dream wakes me Into playful prose Disguised inside These fleshly clothes…. That only a Poet Could Know.
Happy the Artist had some of my Ai art printed in vinyl for my car!
I build shelter out of scraps Of form left behind Scattered in my mind Out of place Just a face of the task at hand And the wilderness is free It beckons me Leaps out at me when I try to Stand, its Been so long since my feet Have touched land And the beasts they form A circle around me Praying for me At first I am afraid and I Fail to see But gradually I am allowed in To see the light I’m Wallowing in And I make love to the leopards Of my own making Touch tongue to the gentle Awakening Healing taking place between This world and this scream That opens the door, In this valley, in this forge And how high can I fly When my spirit is untethered My feathers bending with The wind As I am gathered in By the hands of the one I am cradled and gently Laying stable upon This shaking ground This haven I have found And dwelt upon Till now But I remake myself I trace the fake parts of This hell And make them new I make them true I dance with them until They are no longer blue I am taking this shadow And teaching it form Without walls Pure storm I let it gently cascade over me As my body bathes in the breeze Of spirit passing over me…
Happy the Artist finished repainting the ninja steed!
Restless nights breed breathless dreams Selves are bursting through my seams into Abstract messes of Me slipping over stars in velvet thought cars weaving in and out of Light but never getting far too many times I have read between the l i n e s and still SunsRays seep into mine split and splayed she sings her rhyme time after time and sight after sight fighting for life In this restless night these listless dreams free me it seems but still I am salvaged from selves sweet struggle pledged against the rubble of Will to lift the gift to the top of the Hill where light and rhyme build to climb puzzles melting into Mind sweeping color over the lines smiling despite the salt crystallized from tear formalized Into fear and the night grows on the night glows on strangers in song whispering parodies In Vogue tongues outstretched to taste the load this I know Is Selves in Silence shards of sacred on shelves of violence whence we came and whither we go spiraling in and out of the show taking our turns on tiptoe as the shake moves thru the dance penetrating glance from those who star In the versions of Play that gather where you are.
This is the swan song..... Demonacrobaticommunist beer pong twisted into misty fists of sovietLiberal newDawns In Daze of Knights in masks and disArmoured Rights and Lefts that rise enMasse to hail the new Pawns as they are swapped for Queens and Kings on the chessboard of Light and Dark flights of Fancy Rapt Attention as sewn Dissension begets new Dimensions of Red Imposition
Get into position My friends Let's say this simply so the useful idiots Can begin to rescind their terror Let's open leaden lids and wipe the mirror Clean, this dream is about to get more twisted Yet, Resistance just a false flag assistance from the Scripted Set and Setting as Debts are counted and regrets embedded in mounting Systems of Slavery
The flavor of this mess Order out of chaos as the agitators profess ....politik pointing to prolific policy's of pathetic arrest of sovereignty as the blessed messengers confess their incompetency
This is the Swan Song I want to say it straight but my finger-tongue obfuscates and nameless shame penetrates reminiscences of the defenseless days of burning stakes and bludgeoned brains laid to Waste in bodies I've been alive inside in times like these in lives that bleed the broken neural codes that fold me back into Somatic Steeds that weave my Soul through dreams and Seams too numerous and bold to behold in scenes that flicker through golden Reels of Old.
This is the Swan Song Born once more to bore my way through this maze of Youth and Age in a new Play written on the script of the burning Page that smoulders with the smoke of Burning Sages On the stage of Time, trapped by my own Will to Feel the rage and Wield the Wage of War up my Spine.... Just trying to climb my way out... Rewind the fine twine of the cage of mind and threads that bind me to this climate of crime projected from inside the blind screen of shouting demons Acrobats of simulated semen priming the new aeon to line up.... One.... More....Time..... As the Cycles Ride the Tide of this Massive Wave of mutating Mind.....in a sideways glance I watch as the Trance takes over.... The melody of mania dances through the crowds as the Swan Song Hovers......frozen.....
BlissNinja 