and they swirl around and around
like ashes in a snowglobe
and i cant stop them swirling

and they chatter
and chatter
and scream and scream and scream
and i cant stop them screaming

and they demand to be out
sometimes like bubbles
and sometimes like vomit
and i cant stop them
and i cant stop them

i have to write
because to keep them inside
and does
drive me insane.

and a voice came out of the electronic blue
telling me that once these words
saved a sanity that wasnt mine

which is an odd concept
that these words spilling out
gives strength to those who are not me
seems odd

but the fact
that they did
warms me like nothing else has

thank you little one.
whichever little one you are.

and even that is nice
that i dont know which word
you are.

you asked what Real is
and i answer you
that the front the world sees
is all just words and pictures

the front
the mask
the persona
is all jsut another colour
spilling from the prisim
that our light
shines through

thats a little New Age for this time of the afternoon.

peace, little one
sleep well.
somepeoplesmile that i have locked away
and they scream to be let out
in their prison of my mind
and sometimes i'm forced to listen
but i never let them go
because they'd be an hurricane
or maybe an earthquake
and i like my life now just fine
oE and i have these little shattered breaths of rainbows bent beyond thier breadth...peeling my worried, pained face from the polished pane to graze upon these few words...thanx sab and somepeoplesmile... 040819
uow everything is swimming on the page 040819
marked . 040820
simulacra and i make them dance.

sometimes i wonder if they rebel, in their flatland minds, plotting to dance a little out of step in ungrammatical formation or hide themselves altogether leaving me to mime and struggle, much to their sadistic delight.

oE nicely done 041117
(z) (and verbal water slides around and under them, carrying and mixing, a semantic slurry of the harmonic semiotic juxtaposition of it squeezed out onto the hard bed of syntax in the engineering of the insane
and stops)
oE Yes! Yes!

Break it DOWN fo' me brathah!
() (do not run against the tide of usage, for the thought police will work their pedantic way in the ungentle rodeo of the vernacular is the iconoclast penned, as all listeners will smile, though they might not listen well, only hearing words well worn, used and thrice blessed by all, safe from the pain of nuance or depth,

and stops.)
oldephebe Aw-ight
I'm feelin' you.

Sometimes i think the most exciting place to be as an observer of the language is in the protean pools of new industry or the younger generation..any place where the cultural vocabulary is being augmented and clipped and the obsolete and impotent and flaccid forms are being hewn off like so much chaff (it strikes me that some would regard chaff as obsolete or flaccid or no longer relevant because we are decades beyond the agrarian society of a hundred or so years ago)

yeah yeah! I have these words and sometimes to impute relevance and meaning to some of the numbing and exasperating people in my life. I have these words yeah, and sometimes I am powerless to persuade, to ask for justice, for love for humanity, to some these words are like like rotting intestines and bowels in their mouths, ears and they cannot hold the concept of decency in thier heart or head it is an anathema, and we are all lessened by that sad fact. I have come before you, i say to my advesar, I have made myself weak I have unlocked the closet in wich i hold all of my insecurities in, i have placed power in your hand and shone you my heart and placed your life above my own and yet and YET the advesary bristles and his/her face under goes a small series of seizures as pain and rage and fear and denial marches across their face's gyrating canvas. I have said, But I am FOR you my friend, why cannot you find it in yourself to show me the same kind of human courtesy? It is a simple thing, to ask for justice out of love for the other and then the other writhes in pain fear and confusion for a moment we wrestle with the uncommon voice of concsience and compassion and then the brute, the atavistic brute from the days of caves and stone skies and fire dances when the bludgeon was his voice and excersized his will upon his environment. Yes I have so so so so so many #$%%!! words! I believe we can be saved by this. By simple plain honesty and unclenching our hand that holds the bludgeon and wields it so quickly before thought. It is time for our souls, for our hearts to catch up with our cerebral cortex, our manipulation and creation of specialized technologies..it is time for the house of man, the heart to catch up with his head.

() (and i have others) 050521
StripHerDown And I give them to you. To me they mean soooooo much. To you, so little. You mustn't understand.. 060903
StripHerDown And I give them to you. To me they mean soooooo much. To you, so little. You mustn't understand.. 060903
StripHerDown And I give them to you. To me they mean soooooo much. To you, so little. You mustn't understand.. 060903
what's it to you?
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