A Stream Of Consciousness Forum 2 surrealist verses I wrote--h..

Penetrance

snake eat frog cozy

female snaps white tree branch

I spoke silence and cried cudgel-bean

baby elephant's tusk

Ivory tunnel wherein cops came in

Eternal seed

Spill dew upon the chastened ground

Food come up

Danse Macabre

Dance Macabre

Dance, Macabre

Dance, Macabre!

Love like a winter storm,

Bitter and torn,

Like the pages of a beat,

All that is weathered and worn,

Comes down at your feet

Cat jumps on bed

How we miss a proper psychopath like you, Ted

Now we’re all nutcases in a nuthouse nation

America is a nut tree, strewing nuts all along the path

A girl on a bicycle picks one up and puts it in her basket

The year is not as it was before

And she is peddling to her grandfather’s house

Along the way she hits a stone wedged between the slots

And she is upended from her bike

Like a snail out of its shell

And she hits the ground on her back in a blue? Is it a red dress?

I can’t tell

Anyway there are flowers on it

It might as well be a tablecloth

It is inauspicious

And a gruesome atrocity

She lies on the ground, with nowhere to go

She decides to have a snack

And flipping open the basket pulls out the nut

She cracks it open

And put the naked, fetal-positioned flesh

On her tongue

Wouldn’t you know that’s the first place you put a nut?

Then she closed her mouth

Crunch crunch crunch

Hammer of the Supreme Court is coming down

I forget who this girl is anyway

I’ve lost interest in her altogether

Her teeth, her hair, her face, which was never turned towards me,

her ugly freakin dress,

Which isn’t hard to imagine,

She looks like a Quaker going to her first dance party,

I tell you, her clothes represent the massacre of the Jews,

But who she is I couldn’t tell you at all

Tuxedo black drawn quick tight wrong

Red gondola bid me tea-tote farewellisms

Exquisite monstrosities denote fatigue in the overall infrastructure

Marble outcasts in Thebes groan bandsoon

Terracotta landmarks dream of schools scorched in new high noons

David and Goliath duel first head south then you’re eyes

Michael watches as dunes rise from hopeful farms

Dog drag leash and finds turtle

Clandestine memories sweep under the chimney

And in their expiration go up into the night sky over Paris to blanket people

Faraway, fargone, farlost, farsung

Eden is an eternity waiting to happen

Gone the day when the brethren I would make

Hurry to the stars

Divine appointment

Checks with the teeth I am so disappointed

The Year of Sorrow, sowing tears

Neverending luminous light

The wicked man, yoking his peers

God’s anger burning bright

Partiality, still by wealth, as we judge by appearance

Lazarus peering down at us, from on high

Metaphysics’ mysterious disappearance

Morality’s abject conclusion, far from which we lie

Torso wrapped around brown baskets

Hunting grounds of rabbits burnt to a crispy potato and strawsack animal dog on a string

Never you mind whose side I’m on

That should be clear as a McDonald sign

Exorbitant amount of anything spiritual does not harm

Warthog shoulders beef on its snout can’t breathe but can help some more

O Holy God

O flowery descent

O wondrous flow of Sword-King’s blood

O,

GLORY GLORY GLORY GLORY GLORY GLORY GLORY

Death commands plain view of the stars

So fell the veil of reality

Between the marriage of Heaven and Earth

Penetrance Penetrance Penetrance!

I didn’t say half my problems were worse….

I didn’t say half my problems were worse since you ran away

Since you snatched the thoughts of matter and breath to yesterday

Fallen and faded elastic rooms gone to gray

A woman in the gloom by the curtains in a red and milk pink dress embalmed in dusk and shade

Music latter days dewy film might trade

Chatter in the room to encompass ere the loom

Lullabies, recite or sing Claire De Lune

Here and then rediscover the soul pageantry of the whole[]ole

But that’s not the sound of my past

It’s my brother’s

His a duckling hanging over his crib, or maybe by his infant side

Chiming sweet melody from a metal box to soothe him to sleep

My sound is the sound of whatever was fed me

I was a tiny monster

I was put to sleep

I put my face in anything

I bit the heel of the women who raised me

I was a voracious animal

I spun webs like a spider

I played faction against faction when it was fashionable

I was a miniature Machiavelli

I should have stroked my eyebrows

Only the keel of man tamed me

And I have no regrets

I am a better person now

I saw the darkness of my heart from an early age

And I knew that something had to be done for it

So I turned to God

—My God, my Lord, and my Saviour—

And I bear witness to his change in me today

Still I was not without youthful folly

I was snakeskin Mohawk dog-harlot barley

Maywind boomworld (that’s dubstep) Ricochet Harvey

I arrived, fresh on scene, knowing nothing of this place but Matt’s shorty sweatpants

Now we’re trampling through the miserable woods and night like odd’s Holly

Karamarkovich winter sandwich is for me I’m out of it

Trekking up the spine to Dolliver House, hey what’s up, [uh, I’m speeding] how are you?

Enter the spawn of the gate of elevation

Sunglasses on, music blasting, stick your tongue out and mock the sun

The southward journey begins, keep your eyes on something keen

(Man that was weak stuff, later on the furniture sprouted polka dots and it was rough)

Bricks wiggle away and the sky is something so gaudy it’s for kids to touch and play with at the mall

The trees are torrential and I’m chasing the night away—I’m trying to hug it, that’s all

The darkness is vast and deep yet so shallow and shaft-thin I could peel it with a stencil knife

I was with everybody, now I’m with nobody, except with someone I barely know

Cross-section:

Lanterns engulf the night

Along the path

Which leads to the same place you started

No revelations, no regrets, just tears, sweaty-pearl tears, it’s all so Godly beautiful

The moment serves a purpose

And stretches wide like a pouch

You carry the moment around

And fill it up as you go along

Conversations are a must

And the laughter in the air is golden

Understanding is everything

But understanding is just plain foolish

Webster’s in the corner saying, “Transcend the bullshit”

Craig is nodding; how right he was

Seeking the preternatural we go out in search of new experiences

But always, always, we end up with You

Listen to the waters! That divine rush of sound!

It is indescribable!

It is like being high on ice!

It is like being candid for the first time!

You would think we would see Buddha descending from the clouds,

Mounted on a lotus leaf, wearing naught but a shroud

He would say, (Forthcoming piece of dialogue)

Smoking like cowboys beneath archways that cast shadows in font slants

Then unearthly lights that seem to shine through your guts shine on you and it’s security you guys! Scram!

Bounding over the hills, belly-flopping into the ditch, wading through the muddy waters, out into the reeds—this is no country for old men, our backs to the flashlights—she steps into the mud, and backs away—score 1 for the bourgeoisie!

They never find us, and we slowly make our way back to campus—

After 3 hours of waiting in the grass, WITHOUT smoking weed, and Tom Clancying the scene like regular scouts

Moments later we’re under the lecture center, and security is passing us by—“Having a nice night?” “Yeah, if it weren’t for some kids.” “Sorry!”

Such is the cosmos

A Zoroastrian struggle

They are the sweepers

We are the tree swingers

Swinging overhead

Laughing with our hands to our mouths

“We got ‘em again!” we say

Those were eminently great times, I say

But that was the Night

Night will get dragged before Day

And though you were still with me,

O my sweet Cherie,

When I left from the Rock for my year at another school,

That was the year,

Sad annual when,

My shadow queen,

You ran away….

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