Just curious. For all you out there who love to hypothesize and theorize and fear monger about future dystopian societies and lecture how this and that is leading us there. Don’t you all realize we’re already in it? And it’s nothing to do with politics. Its a universal hive mind
The Past Takes A Holiday
I Remember the
Ladies with the
Hoola Hoops
Outside
In the apartment
Across the way
They would dance and
We would celebrate
They were
Art
In motion
Beautiful
Eternal
And I will
Always
remember them
Musical Interlude
The Gentle Lady
Guitarist
Who played each string
As if it were Plucked from the
Forest
Of a Fallen Angel’s Harp
Rescued at first
Salvation at Last
Let us look upon Her and then
Let us look upon
Me
Tell me and in fact
Tell the Whole World
Just exactly
What
You See
Just curious. For all you out there who love to hypothesize and theorize and fear monger about future dystopian societies and lecture how this and that is leading us there. Don’t you all realize we’re already in it? And it’s nothing to do with politics. Its a universal hive mind
@Poeticise Thank you! Of course that is fine by me!
I love any and all influences and appreciate the fact that you Isils actually take the time and effort to want to introduce me to specific works. I sincerely thank you is much!
The Daily News
Blood Vessels
Popping like
Bubble wrap
Pop Pop
The sound remains steady
Pop Pop
The unfilled vessels remain ready
Unending
Stop the Press!
Breaking News!
Our lives at last
Have meaning that will
Come to Pass
Breaking borders
Slandered corridors
Shut
And
What
Would You have Us do?
Forget the Curfews
Let us All stand at the ready
Stood at the Gate
Just in case
Our collective true fears
Refuse
To
Wait
@Poeticise I love the feedback. Personally I’m only a fan of William Burroughs’ debut novel “Junky” published as William Lee. I am, however, a devout disciple of the entire Beat Generation Literary movement and also their inspiration which was the Dadaist Movement
The Minute Hand
The tiny Spiral
Staircase
Steered down into the
Dank and Depraved
The depths of
The Basement
Dripping cobblestones
Wafts of stale Begonias
Creeping across the very corners
Of the
Stripped and Peeling
Wallpaper
And yet
All was still
The life of a broken clock
Left standing
Lost in It’s own
Time and Place
Lost in It’s own
Relative Shock
Waves On The Shore
I woke up with my
Heart pounding
and I don’t mean just
Palpitating
I mean an Accelerated Racing
Of the Heart that would
Make most Men be in fear for their
Very Lives
And then
That is not All
Then comes the Crushing Waves of
Claustrophobia
Every single corner of
Every single room
Pressing in on You
Pressing down on You
Compressing and Recessing You
Until You are a Diamond
That has been
Turned
Back
Into
A Piece of Coal
A Flower Blooms
This Day was born to
Mine
Mine to scavenge and ravage and
Pull from It’s Earth
Every last root
Every last precious Metal
of thought and
From the Table of Periodic Elements
Fragrant Remembrance
Without a single lament for
Flagrant Recompense
Wearing a leather coat of
Baroque Floral Bouquet
This time
I will go first
If I may
Girl On The Subway
Camouflaged within Her hair
In Her field of Wheat
Long and Flowing and Adorned with
Green and Gold Speckled Eyes
Replete
Majestic
The Advent of a calendar’s Day
And here I am
Here I ride
Here I Arise
Making my way through and
There She is
There She stands
Right in the center of my Attention
She is Beautiful and Powerful and I
Kneel before Her and
Pray for
Redemption
The Glass Pearl
Your life as a little
Tiny Glass Pearl
You must always take the
Utmost care and concern on
Your daily Traversions
Because all it would take
To completely and irreparably
Break You
Would just require a Slight
Nudge off the TableTop
A fluttering flick of an
Errant finger
And then
Across the room You
Would be
Tossed
And that would Be the End of
You
Shattered across the marble
Tiled Floor
Broken
Shattered
Into One Hundred Thousand
Million pieces of
Absolutely
Nothing
Jesus And His Muffler
Who’s got that flying car
That I hear?
Is that Jesus Christ I feel
Whispering into my ears?
Is that the sound of
Perfection Personified?
Jesus Christ’s overfed and
Unmuffled
Exhaust pipes
Jesus Christ’s unfiltered Hot Rod
Soaring through the skies
An Aeronautic Atrocity
Bending space
Rendering time
Obsolete
The Incarnate One
God’s Son
Revving his engines and then
Spilling his
Blood