Visions Off The Wall

The mighty minute of the leisured blue world, as I walk to explore, there ascends a broader highway, the planks build nearby, with three men lining its balcony and singing “What do you do wrong?” Shadows seal the key passage, it is the end of the line, it is a judgement to which I can’t say no, I cannot deny it here. But an escalator emerges and carries me off to shore.

A sandstorm filled the wind, strongest in its first fifteen minutes. The hit started swaying alongside the magnitude of the wind, the house in which I went became more susceptible to drifting. Time needed to be drugged with Prozac or some seizure medicine, the ground emerged from beneath the ground, the manic hour began drizzling, sizzling gawking all over the places, sporting roars of gust, the planks began to tear in the anterior and started imploding, the wood blocks started to tear and fly toward the ramparts. People walked and ran, fast, fast, hatefully fast, speeding, exploding thru a reality of corrupt glory, a dark glitter beating in the doorway, zigzagging through each corner, coarsely runny time, grenades exploded, guns were fired from outside the house, I began to trundle like a stone, wheeling myself to find a way out, I could hear shrieks outside- a man’s. I tried to trap a squall before rushing to save others, people bawled, people sniffed or was that a hallucination within the hallucination. Punches lapped, a body flew in thru the downward, the sand entered my eyes, and I was irritated, quite literally. I could feel the pain that arises when the person most close to you is done in the dark, wherein that person palely shines, with a halo, and phantoms escaping to subway walls, the bells toll in supermarkets. The roof hatted the ground soon, everything tumbled, guns had been shot, bombs exploded consecutively and simultaneously, I had to escape. “I’ll miss knowing you forever, you were my life, my most recent adventure” I closed my eyes so I could be awake and see the relics of it, the survival. 

Train Hued Paradise

Throw me new thoughts, the greatest spurt of entertainment is in the fear of the abrupt unknown, and the talking cemeteries, and also religious frowns.

Everything is silhouetted on green curtains, telephone wires are swinging hand in hand, farms deepen the green darting thru the holes, and the heroes wash the coral photographs zeroing, zooming inward inward the innermost notoriety behind blunt, scattered oceans in between storms of intensity, haunted by a grand sleep of spared hues, jailed by May in October, yesterday.

In the gloomy bricks of this passage, the train rocks from grave till the unending Argentine odds. Unto the entirety of a Zen dawn in these misty aeons, and caught between a billion mad desires, I play music. The radio heats Sinatra outward the open air, be kind don’t comfort yourself in your coffin, I loved the days, even when they were set in daze, perfumed by colorful mountains, shivering thru seventeen inched stabs on the land of Docs and laughter, the earth is an angel dishwashing cures in cities, and bums on bay. Troubles corroborate with nothing anyway.

Melting onto the cheaply clothed chair, still wobbly from years to pass and smoked in time, the sun sins and shines, near posts outside of cursed signs, the hardwired sage translate Bosnian to Asian Buddhists. What else do I see? Flowers? Vaguely. But I do see the vagrants exchanging guns and railway food and solving algebraic equations, with pens and papers.

Keep Making Me Guffaw

“It has happened before, I have done it again. All the bars come crashing down, the sky ascends up the straits thru which ropes of vine spiral and screw. And I watched, I looked, and eyed and smiled all over the faces. I’m resting in my mistakes, running wayward in the waterways and blades and shards await and behold the other side.
Circling fears, irresolute disappointments, swinging trust refuse to leave my thoughts. All the times I close my gates, I wake up to the relief of nothingness. Every time I close my exits, I find a place of comparison, of contemplation, of communicative stops, of collaborative stunts, of collective death. No one narrates my dreams and reads them to me aloud to set me adrift an avowed ocean to sit and set me awake, in consequence I can’t adapt, I’m chasing a time to be afloat. I’m driving and drowning. If I lay closer to the ocean, lie nearer the truth, get old and free, drunk and idle to waste fallen years.
Everything begins to move. There’s a velvet darkness through the looking glass in green eyes lost in daylight, while everything rushes to the signs of Amsterdam wherein I forget the world”

sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing. 
sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing. 
sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing. 

It’s like I told the body, listen to the mind. Oh, the steps that I take to open all my doors.