The Battery Forum backwards traveling to the rec..

how deep can we dive?


....when our sight is set beyond the beauty of the dreamer,
the aesthetic schemer....
set between the light of life and the darkness of death...
it sets a passage scented in african Violets, colored in irish green, the green growth of rampant cell regeneration always outrunning the the rancid eventuality of age. And of course the color brown.

She sings the song of the eternal wanderer
her eyes flashing like fish beneath the crust of her eyelids...
the I, the she, melding steps along the chemical road,
littered with signs of toxicity and seratonin,
the angels soft hand and the devils sexy influence.
They pour us, I, She, into a blender and toss all the world- seen and unseen in with me,
adding liquor and continuous thought
pressing the buttons in sequence
and finally hitting the one labeled Send.

I wake in a cold sweat. The clock says 7:40, shining the color of nuclear marraschino. The sun is setting.
Between my blinds the cold light of nightfall begins to assert its odd luminesence. My cavelike room is blue. Ive slept through the day, which is what id planned for but when I push the blankets off of my body ...

setting myself on beautiful fire,
flames unfolding like petals,
the quiet entropy, everything falling to graceful ashes
the floor is littered with the books i read and took from you,
the words have become lovely silent metaphors,
and i remember the fall of my childhood, rain-wet swingsets
and the blood across my eyes as i stumbled home that day,
thoughts are cut up and they crawl like songs across the walls of ivy
grown up around the stones of barns
my hands rough and torn, hot sun lapping at my back
dust in my mouth, colors in my ears
old woman with broad wooden cross strung on leather
I SCREAM HER FUTILITY
i watch her weep her dreams,

and i celebrate my violence
with inconquerable silence

my fire sizzles and turns to quiet embers
the rain that i step in hisses and smoothly smothers my soul
its strong hands like a saints embrace
taking worry and pain from my shoulders giving me everything i never asked for...

i know that sitting is easy when you don't have legs
walking is harder
i've seen you waking to the smell of the alley and pealing paper cups from your paper face
you're a gutter ball now . . .

Poised to roll the stench of your weak past
wherever that downward tilt takes you.
Or is it "makes you"...hmmm. ya, the darkness is tricky.
I suggest if you haven't legs that you let your fingers do the walking...
cus' the power in words, can grow back limbs
where scientific discoveries can only offer talking.

4
2
1
students
prefer an education to fire which does nothing to fight,
the evil that lurks, within a mind uninspired
and dirty hands, given too much freedom,
only rise to spill wine in dance

rather than to partake of the lords body,

... fearing all that lies outside the boundaries of their atrophied minds
living in quiet solitude that rots and lays waste

their spirits dying on a breath of fetid wind,
the stench awakening apathetic demons
too rife with dull-witted boredom to lust...

for memories that have never faded
etched in the mind by the flames
of possibility and times that never were
wishing to be

yet,
when the high subsides
and the soul spirals down,
back into breathing life,
entering from the ear cavity
and You Open Your Eyes,
richer from strife
and warm from the journey
what will you see?

Will it be castles with moats so deep,
even love's drawbridge can�t reach?
Will it be castles of sand
where waves of reality
steal its place on the beach?
Will it be form disappearing?
Dreams drenched in fearing?
Will it be hopeless?
Or will wisdom find its way to�

break through the barrier of the weak
tho their thoughts drop, miles deep
as if into never ending canyons and s**t,
to pits, dug by the dreams put off by the lonely
while they piss away deep quality
for the false security of quantity.
quantify before ya' die
'cus the waves take grains from the shore
and the raven caws never more
lamenting what once lay on the sand
now gone to lore.
nibbling his curled up toe upon the steeple
watching the waves
wash over the people..

... in a baptism of mediocrity,
too stupid for passion,
greed leaving room for nothing more
than endless consumption of ...

french fries and war platoons...

Gucci's and silver spoons.
Trailer park mentality
dressed in tailored suits,
smoking sweet charoots,
weaving in and out of the traffic
in their minds -
going blind -
dealing for Time
like it has a seat
on the New York Stock Exchange,
and its shares
are about to split.

and spit on the world like a bum drug in circles,
full of wine and sweet on pie, rising up quick..




:) :)

letting it loose all over
the alleyway and the straycats
plucking away like
there is
no
tomorrow

or sorrow.
Why not?
We can borrow
against future tears.
One dollar down
will put your soul
on layaway,
hell to pay,
but that's okay.
Cuz we need this stuff
to make us feel...

... alive because we're not

we inhale and exhale the poisons
of our strife

we ambulate to and fro
invading this place,
violating that person

Russo and Romero's ravenous beasts
more alive and more sensible
than ...

dead, because death is the one we ignore
and pretend its not at our door
waiting and wilting our tired bodies
like faded yellow grass
been stepped and spit on way too much brother...
sister...
leave the strained and aged self
with dignity
and hold death dear in your hearts
because it is just a portal
for a new energy
a new...

stain-less
life
unlike
lady macbeth
who couldn't
Shout it out
out damn spot
the smell of all that
blood money makes
me hunger for those
Mr Clean days of Irish Spring

cold early mornings of spring
open on them lying still,
dead as doornails
in doorways across
varied city-scapes.

YOU...RushToStepOver,
with your eyes snapppppin' down
but always trying to remain blind;
hangin' on close to that big idiot's grin.

cus the alternative is livin,
and yer terrified to begin.
thinking rising from the ashes
means youve got to be a phoeniz
when you're shy of the flash and the light
tho its rightously yours with the gift of life...