no, i can't appreciate your picture;

talking to a drug
like it's some old
idiot friend.

no. i haven't felt the withdrawls lately
no. it is a shock.
i am absolutely taken back.
when i'm there
facing myself
and i will myself to
write the words
in absolute plain
in absolute front of me.
un
av
oid
able.

to me,
it's still a little bright.

i want to be able to say, "when
we were lovers..."
because, trust me.
i haven't talked about it; you,
or the damn withdrawls.

i'm happy i'm so foolish.
i'm so lost.
and! blisshook self-abandonment:
now i've got to come find you
somewhere
up there
in the brilliantine sky.

i am looking for something
but, obviously, i
do not know
what for.

i paused in conversation.
i thought of many things to say.
and, keeping silent, i:
aren't you inspired?
how could you not
be inspired
right
now?
i feel extroveted. and
inspired.
i'm sorry, but i feel compelled
to ask you
a hateful question:
are you
happy?

man,
i just
want
to talk.

curious that i'm different
but haven't changed.
curious that
i think everybody
should know better
and that simply
i should know.
curious at noon-just-passed
i had my evening cigarette.
and curious that my soul
really is
still in me.

bloody
curious,
how i've changed
but don't feel different.

so,
talking
and blantant irritant
of sound function:
talking
to an old drug
like it's a friend.

hello,
friend.

i know, i say hello a lot
i mean it every time.

i feel so static and peaceful
how was i so full of angst by word
though not intention.

i feel raw and untangled
i'm turning to the meditative clear... hello!

scattered unpoetic thoughts at the end

i knew i had slept in past noon
though i still couldn't understand why everyone
in this cafe
was ordering savory
while i wanted breakfast.
it's the first day this week
i haven't had to wake up before dawn
i disabled
finally
my 4:44 AM alarm
and only for one day.
the world is perfectly new.
tomorrow i'll be back at work
but it's all good.
it's
all
good.
my apartment needs furniture.
i've got three cardboard boxes
broken and breaking
for my clothes.
i've got a few hangers for my sweaters,
but my best ones stay on the floor
cos if they're not on the floor they're on my body.
and she,
she looks the same but now
we're good friends.
now!
she needs a good friend who fits.
a friend, friends, and a blanket for warmth.
the apartment is stuck at 17 degrees.
it's going to storm west coast style today
whatever that means.
i've been here for just over a week.
it feels like months
filled with laughter and intense.
i write this at a cafe called THE END
i need to art.
i need to get living.
i need to know!
it's so cold outside.
i have too many places my feet
won't bring me to.
i'm surviving off carbohydrates.
i think i love my life...
i brought two friends to the drug and war museum:
one was so happy to know about it
he jumped-hugged me on the street.
the other bought
a really powerful
bag of grass.
how can i make my days even better?
i'm looking out
for people
i can talk to.

Just now 003

hello worldly tops
hello going-high--
we work awful sweet together.

hello meaningless.

there is contamination!
innoculate the disbeliever:
there must
be peace.

there is obviously fury
and obvious
unjust
actionhood.

like attentionhood
only uglier.

hello outer space
hello been far-out
life
on
earth.
we birth
and rebirth.
i sweet
your awful
mess.

hello to the soul
who has already lived
who has survived
at least
for a meaningful while.

that means nothing for Time
but rather
for place and personality.

we're all incredibly lucky.
that we feel pain
that the upset is passion;
that passion can be translated.

hello soul.
i'm thinking of a lot of people
i'm curious of their infinity
i am
emotional

i believe that evil hearts can love
i believe in exceptions
that everyone is an exception
for somebody else.
lonliness counters openness
and i truly believe
in perception.

now, world: hello

greyhound 2008

do you bleed when you melt and do you melt
when youre stoned?
sleeptime is bright
we've just made a pact:
we're going to tequlia as soon as the mountains hit.

brianchild of the year.

only its a brand new year and everything is most different.
im even talking plain.
this entire trip each group at the back of the bus
talks of radical things.
every one of them have mentioned extraterrestrial life
also i heard of the pyschedelic trip
and how great the high was.
i listen only to their talk.
and got them, later, outside at the smoke.

this time of year i find a new kind of traveler.
not the summer vacationer
but the moving for a reason
and i've seen a lot.



(this greyhound trip around i met jeff, an explosives technician for the army but he studied the trade in germany, has been hitchhiking since newfoundland and found an army-buddy on the way who gave him cash for the greyhound.
he wouldnt give me a peace sign for the picture but he was exceptionally kind and made a fort around our stuff when i asked him to watch it for a bit. haha

"leo" simply because he was a hippie and beat me to the star sign question. he gave us jack daneils and we smoked two joints and sang marley. then he grabbed my hand and said "good. i only talk to people with fate lines". but i didnt believe him. i bet hed make friends with anyone. he gladly gave a peace sign for the picture.

kevin and john! older guys. were on the bus longer than we were. john especially seemed like an interesting conversation so we just walked up to them and asked if they wanted to smoke a joint with us. john was so happy. soo happy. oh my goodness what a gentle soul. kevin didnt blaze but he came with us anyway and laughed at us, a lot. good conversation.)

from mexico

in my epic i conquer mellow
numb and most satisfying
smiling with devious intention
smiling without intention
smiling for the shine of the smile

in my mellow there is a blasted, passive fury.
there is haste for disconnection:
here are the things that conquer me.

backward saint:
you can take care of me.
our skin can rot
pickle and saturate
spot; animal.

saint-thing and honest invader:
this can be an epic.

the woodland earth passes
and passes sweetly by
its almost a bore.
its almost dizzy hibernation
and the goodbye is just the space
on the page
between chapters.

the way language works
its a challenging inferior.
this language here
its a worshipping inferior.
it truly is something
quite less.

in my epic i conquer.
these organ things and their tendencies
are the tempt to keep living
this pathetic
human
life.
numbing and orgasmic.
satisfying.
its a victory and victorious.
its inspiration.
please,
beware of how good
things get.
please!
beware of violence.
learn away from it:
conquer mellow.

once i saw his eyes

i notcied his eyes
the last time we ever met
and i was fascinated
because i actually
just
noticed
them
without h aving to tell myself
to look
and see.

they:
deep seas of posion.
and deep!
i do mean cavernous
i do mean affectionate
and full of storm.

he was speaking
it was a perfect cover
for my silence
and for my stare.
i didnt understand their colour.
i would have expected something plain
but this was defeating.

before i saw his eyes

his hands slipped under our blanket
his mother was drunk beside us
"oh" he whispers
"youve got an inny"
"oh" says i
"you dont?"
he takesmy hand and leads it
himself to the equater of his body
"only partly, see"
but i dont see, i touch.
i look in his eyes:
could you believe that i still
dont know what colour they are?
its the obvious superior feat.
the secret i stare into
and never understand.
i remember each personal smell
the way they embrace
style of speech
SMILE
the way they fall asleep
their hair patterns:
hair on their chest,
hair on their bloody nuckles,
and
trust
everywhere else.
their walk and things to walk
JAWLINE
dear looksight,
their jaw.

but, sight! see me not
the eyes.
the colour of their soul:
constant mystery.

maybe i dont mind
their soul takes time
maybe its a big
godly
trick
i still have
to figure out
eyes, look!
eyes
eyes
they mention mine:
it is not mutual.

Restarting a journal many times...

ive gunned and begun this damn write
the thought-world over
ive pistol-beat and dated; this fine
peice of wood has beaten over me.
there is companionship. the others are casual.
the others dont impress me and i impress myself
through them.
this goddamn write.
im going to be good to you.
ive torn you, i know.
torn little bits of memory out...
you will recover.
i will not be intimidated.
i will be forgiven.
shoot me in my mind

he doesn't get the love
just the lovin.

brilliant child if only
you were a man.

you picked me up
and held me to the air
with our faces still in meet:
they couldn't do that.

and that goddamn chair.

i was wearing the perfect clothing.
falling off strap by cotton strap,
leaned back and you,
leaning back to look at me.

dark untamed hair.
everywhere.
the both of us.

child.
if only we were us in years ahead.

i almost fell!

the thrill was actually
thrilling.

you threw the chair across the room.
i took it's place on the floor
pulled you down
for another meet.

is it wrong that i call you child?
brilliant thing.
if only
you
didn't
happen.

best a word unhealthy.

if you think of me as often
as you say you do
why won't you just
give
in?

listen, soulmate.

i'm sick, too. I'm exhausted!
too.

and for the most redundant thing:
of you.
the way you say you are of me.

how can we keep on saying the same,
perfect things
to each other?

i am SICK
and also very TIRED
of hearing it.

if you think of me often
it is nature.
you are forcing yourself
away from the natural.

why are you disrespecting her?

it was me who got shut off.
it is me still begging for mercy:
this is fucked.
why am i involved?
this is fucked beyond
my spirituality.

you spoke of men causing madmen.
wholly! you are a hypocrite.
but think no fear, i did not mean that as an offense.

you must truly despise me to your soul.
and that is why i am so fascinated.
i have never wanted to be attractive.
but if i move you
i want
desperately
to know why.

are you scared to be provoked?

i will continue.
i will not let up.
all this provocation is letting me write!
hallelujah!

Bell.

you can outdo my words
a lifetime
of times.
am i the only one who knows this?
YOU'RE ALSEEP.

WAKE UP AQUARIUS.
THIS IS YOUR DAWNING.

no. i will not let up.
stop wishing it.

i will never quit my harassment of you.
you don't want me to.
with a twist of perception i'm still acting
the way you want me.
you bloodyfuck
need
my
want.
and
i
want
you
so
bad.

hah. your soul was almost mine again.
you spoke, even, of serenade.
maybe when we're both dreaming i'll tiptoe
over to you
and you'll tell me all about it
and it will be our secret.

i have written so long about you.
i'm beginning to think my crave
is unhealthy.
i truly bash myself
for caring.

and, yes, i do say meaningless things
but not things i regret.

my mind is obviously spinning.
i simply don't want these repetitions.
those letters will become art, Bell.
CAN YOU FEEL FOR ONCE?

i promise i'll try to be logical.

i want to discover.
i've said it before:
i want to uncover.

fuck.

my mind is obviously splitting.
can you please
quit your non-thoughts
of thinking yourself unpoetic?
even if the irritation of me calls from beneath:
you
are
an
artist.

i want to know if i reach you.
if you say
you are reached
we can conquer by wordling and
by wordling foe.
earth's characters are us at this turnpoint.
i want to be universal.
i want to go out with a bang.
i want somebody greater
to keep up the art.

i want the whatfuck ideals of me
to take lost expression.
i want choas
through
meditation.

i know, i want too much.
i am not ashamed.

even on the dirt road
perspiring,
flustered, fleeting!
there is the entire world.

i have seen the mountains from the dirt.
i have taken a beautiful road
to a dirty place.
because
passion
exists.
and i believe, perhaps,
that passion is the strongest of all feelings
simply conjugated
with differences.

sedate me.
right now!
do me.
my mind needs a lotus.

the lotus has my back.

shine through!
sunray-sailor,
shine on.

i'm an escapist.
i'd invite you to escape
with me
because i think it
so
awful
romantic.
but i won't. not yet.

SHINE, BELL. SHINE.

ZIP-A-DEE-BAH-DEE-BAH-DO-BAH

I know ill probably fall in love with you
I know
Sweetly
Too kindly
I’ll probably dabble in your
Disabled
Love.

I know
We’ll meet
And aid ourselves in pleasure.
I know this.

I am
Completely
Willing.

I am completely
Reckless
And
Risking
Of your future
Discontent.

I know I’ll probably find quality in you
Though currently
There is no telling of any
Of it.

I know.
Though I don’t know you yet.

Somehow
Your story
Sets itself before me

And reckless,
Risking by the fooling tempt, I:
Know you’ll want me,
Thru all these things,
Too.