The Rose Fall

I see The Rose fall—she falls to the sound of pulsing, bending collimated plasma—and I see that it is just. Away from me float those embedded feelings, those habitual reactions I should have bursting to the fore. But I don’t care for her anymore. How could I after what she did to my sweet.

The mechanic shoulders his blow-flamer and throws me a grin which I do not throw back. I think that somehow this act, this last cleansing of the demons of my past would allow my mind to sail free. But all I’ve done now is untether a mind that couldn’t work without control.

“She died well,” says the mechanic polishing the back of his hand with a rag. “Can’t believe she fell for you . . . How much did you pay her for this anyway Biscuit?”

Poem of Today

38 Whats

What do I take you for?

What is the meaning of this?

What will the future hold?

What will I be doing next month?

What is the freedom involved in it all?

What will I make for us?

What is the game we play?

What is the indirectness amounting to?

What is enough power to run the grilling?

What will I produce from my mind?

What will it develop in me?

Mr. What or Mr. Whom can be trusted . . ?

What, where, why, when?

What’ll willy will for the willing?

What was the way that they meant us to follow?

What does it mean when they are friendly towards you?

What is the being we will fall into?

What, you think it’s more of an intentioned inquiry?

What line does the horizon emphasize?

What will you follow to the beginning?

What is the rewiring of my circuits in lieu of?

What is the like for like in the name of?

What will the law allow us to terminate?

What is the ticket ticked off of the pile for?

What will replace me when I am gone?

What is the endpoint of a growing relationship?

What is the point of the scrabbling around we reorder?

What do the artists expect from the forms they fold?

What is the buzz the Hacker brings out in the pssht shores?

What is it but a combination or maybe not?

What second approach is required to pare down the variables?

What do I do with the space once I’ve created it?

What does one do to secure the way forwards is . . ?

What confusions lie at the heart of All?

What nothings are the source of the it in it?

What doing fills the ordering?

What intentional mistakes were made in this?

Payment of population

The price is dear, Have no fear,

As frigid air, penetrates my lair,

Neon lights stretch for miles,

We pay to pass through their turnstiles,

That lead us home to dinner cold,

Pre-packed, sold, and rubbery to the chew,

A zoo is a prison,

To keep the inmates in,

Sub-urban cells stretch for miles,

Filthy maze of paedophiles,

Infiltration, saturation,

A ticking bomb in the train station,

Hustle, bustle, spoilt with muscle,

Rustle up a curry from leftovers,

Four leaf clovers grow evermore rare,

Meadows squeezed, We sneeze at pollution,

But hay a reduction in fever, would be an achievement,

Sheltered lives sensitise,

Cities seclusion may not help,

In need of a blood transfusion, you may be left wanting.

House roof growing smaller,

My vantage grows taller,

London a settlement like Baghdad from the air,

Flames rise up to a neo-holocaust,

More pollution, earth’s exhaust,

What is cause, the cost of hosting?

War on earth will be occurrent,

Globalisation a co-operation of resource,

Ghetto brothers need mothers,

Fathers beat their children,

But blood splatters are too frequent,

As young need more discipline,

Some enjoy to play inter net,

A sickness present finds a direction to follow,

Promises are hollow, as white slaves are sold for sex in the tropics,

The topic of policing an unknown quantity,

Fallacy ever present rolls from the tongue,

You lick that joy pad,

You download your feelings from a god, who can program virtual genetics,

Frenetic acceptance of a lot of bullshit,

When hit we look down at our lives,

Try to have peace some like to fight,

Trapped like sheep in pen,

The wolves circle.

Do you get blowed?

I like to escape into the limitless mind,

For some escapism is to follow another mans dream,

What does it mean to create entertainment for your attention?

King Bush and Jehovah Blair have ideas,

And when enclosed to conformity,

We pretend that democracy actually exists,

Nothing but a textbook is the life we lead,

Funnel our power of knowledge to use to,

Spread through the galaxy as snails

Groups of ideas, ideals rules,

Groups of people free in jails.

Finding Nirvana

Why do I often periodically fall down and let down unmethodically,

The cycles of my temper seem enlarged I can't settle,

As encounters I choose to test my mettle,

A destruction of desire and a need for its fire,

Could in a never-ending storm move me higher,

A storm of ideas and of natural high,

Will my soul have its rest will it lie,

Before a finishing act when I …,

I must begin to look for attunement,

My body must ask my mind for atonement and vice versa,

For this to enlightenment must be the precursor,

I must seek to move myself ever further,

In a direction of peace and true enjoyment fervour,

A likeness of self with the wealth it entrusts,

To me may come with the departure of lust,

And for true love for life to radiate my future,

May love for my self be the base for my sculpture.

A love for my self must be the base for my sculpture.

Changing your mind?

Cascades of creation stem from the imagination of nations of people,

Building steeples of knowledge accumulation of confidence as we struggle to combine,

But once we have achieved a need to grow forth,

Could we force a reckoning of expectancy of reluctancy to drop arms,

Instead of premature reduction of human knowledge,

Nurturing of a love for all of ourselves,

Leave the right kind of mark on this life,

One that cannot be seen is better as contribution to a whole isn't as visible as destroying part of it,

Extend your home for as you no longer need it someone else will come when you are dead and still love honour and use it with appreciation.

But not sitting idle, maintenance of improvement of ones life is always sought,

If marks are to be left mental and physical legacy can be achieved,

If all our energies were funnelled positively with no swimming against the current, then faster to the destination we could come,

Our minds will metamorphose into a structure of untold clarity,

An expression of conjuration of creatures from the minds of a population who destroy people different from them,

Paranoid seclusion causes allusion of ideas and thought processes reserved for beings of higher states of consciousness,

An evolutionary scale of development of life as in the past we accessed our brains full potential,

How do we open the dormant cells,

Different people use different methods,

Sometimes the price can be high as other parts of the brain belonging to purists stop functioning,

Is it possible to have full control of all possible connections,

Its hard to see how the brains nature of its structure predicted the future, our future,

Maybe our future has already been achived before our time and we have but forgotten or developed downwards from a peak, decadation,

Why are the hidden areas there?

Now as we look forward though our knowledge has reached a point where now we, given time will have complete control of the human genome,

Will we reopen, relive an older more primitive type of function,

We can use drugs as done before us or even genetic manipulation to open our minds,

But what if an extreme primitive box is opened that should be now dormant,

Most agree that higher functions are in evitable but yet again how did a brain of a human know that it needed to be a certain shape for the future,

It seems as though we are a product of design,

Is a god or creator now preparing to hand over the controls or was it designed to be so from the start with only observation from above or below?

The certain frame we are in horizons grow three dimensional neigh multi-dimensional as a tide is still advancing,

Soon it will bash against the rocks, a barrier that if we hit it hard enough will be breached,

Yes sometimes retreat, but a feat of a control complete,

For our plane of existence does have limitations to its infinity,

As the same structures bore, we move forth into different levels of space as time becomes outmoded because of the scale and - and of - the energy under our sway,

Where can it end? The only point when it can end is now, but can it end?

Look out and observe the myriadical colours of the Universe weaving a pattern of consciousness so sublime we humans only scratch the surface when trying to quantify its meaning of contents therein (and their infinity?).