Tuesday Night Post #5

Collective Sleepers,
       Late starts, yes they slow the terminus but the terminus will result.
With child like infatuation, 

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

A Clear and Conscious Distance

What is this distance that is so clear and clean.
A view from above
A clear view.

From a perched location in detachment, it was not hard to fantasies about who he was and what he did.
She looks at the screen.
Watch’s him work.
He sweeps
He mops.

Him focused on the mundane task, the irksome dance, she drifts into the emotional mathematics of what was possible once in a time when she fantasize on the potential of the situation.  

In her eyes he becomes little squares of liquid crystals as her thoughts begin to stream…

Let us go inside.  Will we let things become what they are as we become that one thing that has eluded most of the ones that try and try again after a while all hell breaks through, how can I love this state of unravel?  How can I trust the one that see me for who I was and what I will be?  Can you accuse me before I am?  Simple time calls for complexities that I alone cannot enjoy.  I remember once when you said those things I love to hear and I questioned the only thing that is real and touchable.  Regulations.  Stormy darkness that is I will soon let it go but I am not ready for the moment in which I have let the ones I kept inside become myself.  Logging user motion detected.  Cluster fucks the collective consciousness that eats itself for the reason of existence.  If I ever let you in it is because I have given up on myself.  Myself is more precious than anything I know therefore when I hear I am precious from another it means nothing by use of emotional mathematics.  Stamp the time stamp the date I will remember this bytes.  In between is where I am on the roof is where you are ready to jump even if there is no force in which it would bring you to the ground.  Transfixed the repair, for it was not already broken, twice fold.  Don’t try to understand when you are trying to resolve.  Chose one choice if you are to win.  Let me find the time to know myself before I want you to understand the things that I have built myself to become.  Search back search click new page resolve.  Why should I trust when I know that reality is a question that must not be answered by the ones that asked it only by the ones that live it?  I don’t suppress myself in hopes of living long I do it in hopes of finding out what there is to live for.  X’s & O’s & 1’s and I can’t forget to save.  Don’t try to expunge my thoughts.  They are mind.  My possessions are an extension of the things that can break.  Let me love you in hopes I can break free when needed and when I am need I can break myself in two for you and for myself.  I can fracture in infinitude, one for me and several for the server.  Let me fear the fear that I fear for I fear in all its fear.  Just trust in the fact that I have demons that dress as angels for my heart is unwilling to see the facets of my personality.  There is no break in code or timing so is this genuine? If you step into my abode then you are mine if you are mine then you are for me to keep, this is a privilege.  Drive around me but if you drive in me that is when I cannot exist.  For I become the tool of another’s reality, which in my head is only possible if I truly adhere to the belief that I can become down into them…

On and on her mind disengages in things she is unconscious of and things she truly wants to resolve. 
Her comfort comes from being able to know where he is and seeing the phantom move in the screen. 

There is no comfort in dialogue. 

Tweet

Tuesday Night Post #4

 Cohabitants,

                  Maybe you have not noticed but things are changing.  The things to come will reignite your ideas of what is possible and if not careful put out the fire that is within all of us.  Keep track of all you hear and see.   Let us find freedom and recreation in critical thought.  Take a few breathes and think "why?".   Then ask "why?".  What ever you do don't panic.  It will make sense.  We are all a part of Team 6.

-DBL

*     *     *     *     *

The Fox in the Hole

Under the afternoon sun I doze

On my side

An ear to the ground and one to the sky

My thoughts fall into the object of my desire

The cause of all evil and the drive of my existence

The dream we all dream of is my companion

A servant to my servitude

Among my family things are said

In my sleep my thoughts and the things I heard come together

They color a reality I am not sure I understand too well

That fox in the hole

In my slumber he is as real as the lark I caught the other day

A fleeting victory

How many times will I search and destroy that fox?

How many times will it take a different form?

Turning inside out

Revealing a nanosecond of clarity that in my dreams open up the mystery

But in my waking life feels as if my tail is waging me

I see the picture in my minds eye circulated among the rest

We can’t smell the fox in the pictures but we rather believe it exist

No questions

Without our fox my friends would get disoriented

Just the search to find something to search for

Would reveal things we are to well trained to not think of

We give up our freedom to serve the hunt

In my dreams I corner it but that is when things get cloudy

Vague in meaning I wake up remembering the instant I go in for the kill

But I don’t remember the kill

I open my eyes

The light blinds one eye

The other by the dirt

I shake myself off

Drink some water

Feels like a good day to kill my cousin

Tweet

Tuesday Night Post #3

Ending to a Unreal Life Altering Text Conversation
(Six Impromptu Responses)

No. 1
Severed finger

Sewn apart

Fingers crossed

Dipped in butter

Brown and toasted

Flavor tense and reflected

Shoved away Rejoined in rhythm.

No. 2
Today decided to not care anymore

Tomorrow I start walking sideways

Everywhere except in tight spaces.

No. 3
There is no fun in time travel

mys-fuctional meddling.

No. 4
Relaxed pose

Open sore

Systems to penetrate

Leave us kneeled and saturated

No. 5
Counted toes count

Once for u

Once for separation

Once for circles son.

No. 6
Inch by seconds or miles

Worried ones watch in horror

Moistened surface the length is measured

Ground is to taste the others mistakes

Crush.

Tweet

Tuesday Night Post #2

This is more of an evening posting thing. Tuesday night postings if you will.

Recently I have been having dreams in which I feel as though I am watching someone else's thoughts. They seem so foreign; the kind I feel would never come from my mind. Most are stories.

I remember seeing this event one time or perhaps it was a story I once was told, or something that I had said, or maybe I dreamt it...

I Did Not Witness the Flower, nor Did I Witness the Felling

Sitting on a patch of green at a muddy park. Sitting, staring, things here and there caught my eye.

At times I lost my train of thought, stared into open space, staring, staring…

My memory forgets the second I saw the two little sprouts of green wiggling out the mud. Those two little ones left a shadow in my heart forever darkened with love and desire...

I wondered if they came from the same organism. Siblings maybe struggling for their own space to consume; their location and relation trivial.

As I watch with an empty mind I see them reach and grow

Leaves, stems expanding pushing air

It takes me a slight thought to identify their varying patterns of behavior

One sweet but proud

Looped and twisted

Lovely moments that hypnotized my subconscious

I was soon pulled into its dance

Reaches up for the heaven veering a sudden left then to the ground

Loop back up

Then the cycle again

Re-orient

Then the cycle again with a varying variance that produces the same but a singular event

So caught up with the instant, so focused and close

I pull back

It is a pile of loops and curves, smooth and sexy

Image of its potential not finished but promising

As my eyes lust for a touch that's when I notice a peculiar surface change

It comes very slowly

They creep out with no pride or conscious

Slowly piercing the space around them

Two inch thorns

Red and splendid

Sharp and threatening in their shape

I marvel at this thorny bush

A creature so perfectly dangerous but inviting

Inviting in a sense that one could get lost in its complications and its sudden revelations

Its growth slows so my attention turns

Elsewhere

The other seedling is a seedling no more

It begins its towering ascent into the sky above

Expanding its limbs any direction it can envision

Any it can invade

This tree a faction off of a contemporary of the bush

With two phenomenons, my mind well occupied, I have no thoughts of my own

Just reflections of what I think I see…

Barriers are broken

Personal space becomes a place for tension

As I stare time, really, I feel is lost

Overlapping and repeating I see no distinction

A thorny vine creeps up the tree

Or are there three?

Movement is fast as I realize what occurs

These juvenile things with recklessness jump at a point to interact

One reaches out, the other up

One leans in close, the other around

Winding, grasping, hugging, knotting, and flowing

This dance seems only to fulfill an intention to thrive

A single goal

A feeling that I mustn’t interrupt overcomes me

Mainly because of the curiosity I have to see where this will end

From the thrusts here and there, both seem stressed

Both seem much matured

A tree bounded by a thorny bush pushing out adding tension as it grows out and upwards as trees usually do

Rings on top of rings
Layers of cells

I left that scene of which I bore witness.

I had things to do. It was getting cold, and I had forgotten my sweater.

I left them.

One tall, almost too high to see. The other dense, with buds that were ready and willing to show the light, climbing as high as they want.

Forever anchored to earth with their relative distance.

Forever growing high and wide, and if willing, down and out.

I still replay it in my head hoping I can extrapolate what it meant and where it would have gone. It’s exhausting because of the infinite possibilities and the tendency for memory to fade and warp details. Sometimes I see similar creatures doing similar things. In any case the event still exist in myself.

Much love,

-DBL

Tweet

Tuesday Post #1

Greetings,

This is the first of several of my writings I will post every Tuesday. They will vary from poems, general writings, stream of conscious, word equations, lyrics, to anything that I think makes enough sense to post, or just needs to live somewhere.

-DBL

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Words from One Walking the Line Between Illuminated and Enlightened

Falling on the side of Nihilistic

60 Orange Rose's of Jesus Christ

Sent

60 Oranges on roads of there demise.

60 talent scouts to each hard,

Sound off enrichment bonuses to their friend.

Banking lessons to the One.

Sending messages,

Evil ones.

Constant splatter of the souls

Living life never more.

Precious system source of wealth

Symbolized by current stealth.

60 paths of revelation.

Seeping, Read, and Constellations.

Sipping, Red, and hesitations.

Sending words, Re-guards, and E-motions.

Feeling through a constant

Frontal lotion/ corrosion.

Spliced and mended credit card.

Romantic Age maintained,

Good exchange.

Goods exchanging

Health/ wealth maintained

Continue this other way.

Figure 1 for 2,

Your way of seeing

Is

A Different hue.

Watch them say "I am the light"

While they wiggle in the

Dusty

Blight.

Running hands

Over the hide,

Cattle that don't need to create,

Soon lose the power to subjugate.

30 soon departs,

No one really knows how it starts

Or when it ends

Cycles through and through.

Grab a broom

Sweep away.

Wooden

Stick

Hanging

You.

Tweet