Drunken Verse and the Little Cafe

 

Drunken verse                   

 

Assemblies and lines thus the words fall for sell and for victory. The memory bank is looking down the barrel to justify and just to justify not any occasional youth expanding memory but to include bottles collected from streets. From the streets there is the occasional cartel of vixens and hotel brides, but no sight of Godzilla using his MasterCard. Everything is on DMX and you can watch it from your personal planet. The personal planet is a state of mind and a need for agriculture and politics, the politic of the mind and the need just for necessity’s sake. Necessity I beseech you like the windmills of Don Quixote and the angels and demons of Blake. None of the less, I find myself staring at wallpaper or any fixated object like Conan O’ Brien. Whether the weather id your wills wantonness, I respond to your smile and the conjugation of Spanish verbs and the pieces that contain. My monstrous reverberation has cocktails too. What is that blurring rhetorical question but I answer with what myself. Sip and dip myself into human doings however I rip and zip the undoing of my language. My language is undone and there are so many factions that guard my lips against any slips of the tongue that are deemed slanderous or incorrect. Will my love but not love. Engender the buts of coordinating conjunctions that intercept love and its delineation. Will me and perceive me just like I write in willful coordination.

 

I wither your lakes and I backspace to intercept any flaws that beset creation. Whatever drawn is not willed bit immersed into a glorious King. I fall and continue that I fall and fall further to conclusions which I cannot draw but perpetuate insecurities and the meaning of mistakes. Everything is but a willful experiment. Draw me to the dogs and sense the heat. Consort nature’s following thus I will follow like blind man’s religion, with my foot at the stone, wishing mixed messages unto a poster board, because I have done too much and reckoned too much through messages that intercept nonsense like radio waves and The Ancient Men who have fallen into the abyss and yell their cries to their moms and dads.

With all of this mess and grandeur, I was thinking while I was sitting on the toilet, but not doing a number two because I was to lazy to stand up and be number one. Never mind coincidences, never mind magic, never mind toilets, and never mind meditation because the nexus is not you or I or he or she. Unfortunately as time progresses, the mind will grow or disintegrate with the knowing of the soul, but how shall I recess the absence of guilds, sanctuaries and church, and the mobs that grow both left and right and I was born left=handed but I am not sure if that means anything. With what will I know I know it grows with food just like barley drinks of faith?

 

I cannot knot tight knots. I am with drawn from these paintings and they assort their intelligence of colors not seek since the eighteen hundreds.

 

I no I am wrong but what if I know that I am right. Will Justine take my ambivalences to his advantage as his rightful heir? Will Frances, my sister, marry Joseph, whom is not a Jew, but a sentence of which things become tested and running is the only observation? Will Drake the Drunk confess his abnormalities upon a language that is straight? Will the wills of future tense, of past consideration, reveal the mask of conversation?

 

I Don’t Know.  But there is something I want and if I were to wand it’s magic than I shall have it. Consensus, I shall not purge through vow or deformation of the human face. Alliance, I shall not burden with footsteps, for what man wants God shall keep.

 

As HERA makes peace with ZUES, I see the contradiction of my fate. However it is good and inherently good and humorous, full of pain but with a pane of glass through which to look through that youth has it’s number and so does old age. I have never seen HERA so welcoming to change and the confirmation of ZUES.

 

The right mind is the advocate but those who leave shall not follow. They shall pattern their way of life. For the peoples that create people shall dance the union of the things that break apart and will itself through language to become one but separate.

 

For this is the thus of human blankets and the walls of perception

 

The Medusa lain all night with youthful years and procrastinating growth. The mirror would not allow appointed time, for she was beautiful like raisins do a dying sun .The sun had grown tired and so she had to the shadows. Aphrodite was not tired, but she had longed to hear verses from a mortal such as I.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

Woven like a Persian carpet. Multi layered and plural.

[Blackbirdsong]

This is still one of my favorites of yours and it's good to see it back up again. I really think when you let your creative self go and just write like this in a stream of consciousness or gonzo journalism style that you are at your best. The images that weave and flow by are astounding and mystical and even humorous at times. You write as if coming from a creative mind that is a blur and a whirl of so many intriguing things, but still with structure and correctness. I am exhausted but smiling. :)

"My language is undone and there are so many factions that guard my lips against any slips of the tongue that are deemed slanderous or incorrect. Will my love but not love. Engender the buts of coordinating conjunctions that intercept love and its delineation. Will me and perceive me just like I write in willful coordination."

There is so much struggle in these lines....you don't tell us what or why exactly but it is there, along with an inward battle for control.

The ending is like a hallucination or a dream fragment, which is the perfect way to end this.

"The Medusa lain all night with youthful years and procrastinating growth. The mirror would not allow appointed time, for she was beautiful like raisins do a dying sun .The sun had grown tired and so she had to the shadows. Aphrodite was not tired, but she had longed to hear verses from a mortal such as I."