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Abstract Period

Abstract Period - 1999 to 2003

 

If you enjoy the written content of the site and know of a source of outlet and or to publish these works, please forward your contact, it would be greatly appreciated.  The projects that I have completed, .ie. "Abstract Period" this text is chapter 2 of a novel of thought progression/poetry, completed and fully edited or ,ie. "Hokies Epic" is one of a few works in story format, my writting is an on going process as well as my visual art.

 

Location of the two dimensional god

The thought of consensus
 in it’s moments of immediacy.
From the depth of running
 into a wall to a chemical flux;
 just short of paralyzed and
 taking it in the head.

The chatter in your head
 is improvised no one
 lacks in refraining it.

I am truth and lust;
I’ve begun shocking and still.
Whether or not it’s been awhile
 they all seem to write themselves.

Enough not to be equal
 as the matter at hand.
In any solution the product
 to be taken away and how all
 the subject is effected.
Unique before the eyes
 a silent observant of the question.


Deserted Insole

'and then you said
I want this to touch our lives.
Who is this you; that calls us all?
I’ve walked out here before
 and there is nothing at all.

Try to prove the nucleus of you
She fell upon me like a crosswalk,
 caught in a vortex
 with a lost doll, that never had eyes.
Could I feel anymore but ammunition,
 cause I had a job to fill

She could only say two words,
 “ Shoot and kill, “ so I try
 to find the nucleus of you.

The air vent smells like rubber dolls
 and they are trapped or hiding
 from the merchandized laws.
I guess in time they have to be
 in the nothing and there is no other way.

They tried to escape through
 the ventilation shaft; lifetimes
 as long as it seems

The ID cards to make
 it easier around the blender
 of chemical cocktails; that was
 to have made a dead end of the journey.

The ingredient of the solution
 a heading that read,
 “They mean this for life
 now they have given.”

The primary confusion
 of a diverse polarity.
Forgotten to be empty
 and remembering to fill the masks
 we innocently wore as children.
A motion found tasteless
 now pollinated on dry cement.


Plastic Hell

The tunnel entry
 self preserved.
What in the justice has begun
 to have given away?

It feels like you would
 make me wait forever;
 that I admit could be
 held under the limit
 and not in time;
 to soar.

See where; there
 the merchant of desire
 has equated
 this plastic hell.

Put you here
 to this point to sell
 the divised is seen,
 the realized;
 redeemed sphere.

Sight to what structure
 they say the core a bolt
 to melt you down;
 the plastic,
 sounding little town;
 called hello;
 plastic people melt.

This publicity is the tower
 a mark the dose
 that became, the scare that
 took over the globe.

The plastic hell
 we admit to see,
 is only the beginning
 of our tyranny.

The proceeds
 will bring the tower down.
The plastic hell
 is worn around, a plenty
 the mentally, encouraged sound
 that is until, we’ve worn the gown.

Plastic things, make rubber games
 even if you,  don’t know the names.


The Still Forgotten

The asylum teases with white walls
 the still forgotten.
Teaming  with transparency
 in silence we seek to discuss
 with ourselves how we worsen;
 the ways,
 the still forgotten

The world is a puzzle;
 dream is the maze,
 a case of illusion
 and the light of intent.

The still forgotten
 in the terror of the instance
 as a thought to realize.

In the single occasion
 that merely stock arrest
 and pass redemption.

Awake restless,
 frightened to equate.
These are the moments
 they are certain to take.
 the last piece to see
 and a glance.


For The Birds

It’s to correct
 I’m a tethered being.

My pet insect and I
 are the only ones who care?
To turn the world to cry
 the game is over.

On my stoop,
 on my pirch.
The world replied
 with a ring,
 Alien sex, alien
 sex, alien sex!

Pick the lock
 and hide away
 hooked in and taken.

Nothing is ever;
 never again for none else.
Don’t turn over the only answer
 responding one in truth.

On my stoop’
 on my pirch.
The only one who cares?
The world replied with a ring
 the game is over.


The Last Word

The lost world;
 spoken in the correct tongue.
Come again;
 how did you get this,
 the last word?

Where did the rest go?
I found it to be your own you.
The disguise a note of blue;
 the lost word.


Sky

Take a hint,
 lie, die, why;
I don’t even know anymore.
Who are you?
How have you been?
Chosen reminder,
 even since.
Hidden about,
 leaving the print
 of an exposed sky.


Death Freeze

Why this complacency
 I don’t want to take this from you.
God’s of the sky;
 isn’t it enough and why?
I’ve got a raincoat
 and a brick in a case,
 with plenty of socks
 it’s absurd of me to do this.

Nothing but daffodils and forceps
 as the vigil wallows until hollow.
Taste me as a fascist;
 fade says the windmill,
 dance says the sun,
 nazi-voodoo, acid rain,
 sorting out the time again.

I thought it brought me here
 instead I made this ringing;
 it’s intuition is a measure
 of the nectar in your veins.

Wait and leave me inside
 until there’s blue skies
 and days for rainy coats;

Release the mock
 in reflection.
It’s to please the anger
 and settle the vox;
 face to face
 in anycase.
Leaving the violated
 a destined incite
 and deal god’s wrath.
Worthy over and until
 times of innocence.

Remain innocent in these dreams.
You’re so tragic
 accepting the freedom,
 mind to the sky.
The fixed dilation of another times eye.

Shiver off to the roar of the sky
 the rise of blinding light.
More often than reprised
 there isn’t anything that will end this.
Than to prove the night.
What’s this complaint?

As I the vigil;
 nothing but daffodils and forceps
 it’s intuition
 to measure the nectar in your veins.
Release the mock in reflections,
 accepting the freedom.
The rise of blinding light
 to this wrath,
 to leave those violated.
Head held high.


Abadox

The stencil;
 cross-marked etching.
Sworn up and under my hat.
Wisdom imprint;
 the set is in
 and it’s smacked in the face again.
I’m in an abadox
 weather of chemicals
Falling upon the mind,
 without hesitation.

As it could forgive
 it’s decent from the skies
 my apox lies,
 save me.

You won’t need that carousal
 in the abadox
 thrown to my knees,
 not to pray,
 but to suffer.
Surrender the latest topic
  from the stain
of the rain.
I’m in an abadox
 the collection spreads
 like it should become
 as the cause is drown
 in the powder.

Blood of acceleration
 the abadox has begun.
They all scatter like ants
 and needing water,
 like a flower;
 for my love.


Intercept

Shot to the blind in retrospect;
 this is how we resurrect.
The clueless lifeless,
 intercept their eyes;
 acidic and explosive to the core.

A mangle statement,
 while my skull is indivised.
The ragdoll reality;
 the faceless the fearful
 intercept their eyes
 and the other pleads
 it will be done.

This fail proof system sucks
 I didn’t bother getting in the weapon.
At another look that’s all it took;
 intercept their eyes.
The other’s pleading
 how easy it is to end it all.
The halting darkness
 slung into corners
 and tossed down pathetic avenues.

A peace in the scene
 and a dead silence.
Derived by the abductors cry;
 intercept their eyes.


Timeposter

Alternation;
 the death
 altercation; mind lead.

Never let the whispering wind
 tell you everything;
 to see before your eyes,
 comes to you as reality dies.
The turmoil shall never end
 as the shell remains.
The cricket is riddling all of those
 that has fallen upon them.

The option line.
What’s gone entitled the same,
 tells you anything?
To see before your eyes,
  comes to you from the edge
as reality dies.

Object you as one;
 condescending is the cricket.
Reacts you claim,
 given essentially take your aim.
The turmoil shall never end
 as the shell remains.
Alteration the death altercation.
Mindlead;
 system synastics.
Object you as one,
 clean sent;
 “ The cricket riddles those
 that have fallen upon them. “
Anything for you
 these don’t concern.


Harvest Day

Stuck in my box
 on harvest day.
To lie from the sun
 in my own decay.

The rock melts
 the earth shakes
Proving my directed getaway.
Everyone is on my grave
 like a tin shanty
 with no cool breeze.

The sun melts
 a stank auburn darkness.
This is my harvest day
 and I’m on my way
 to the other side.

Maintain caution
 and don’t spend time late;
 have you heard it’s all about the word.
Goddess of vision
 for a figure of my doing;
 plant me roses for pain.

We all scream, " Free Venus ",
 this is for the rain.


Dilute

The approach is dilated and stoked;
 to have thought of entering
 withdrawal and isolated to overcome.

Activate the surface to who they’ve become;
 again and awaiting to assimilate;
 as they would allow it.

There is a contest for silence.
To reach the correct motive
 and get there first without consequence.

The paranoia came through
 and we thought only to destroy.
The dial of an infinite creditor
 that could crush us in it’s grip.

Hidden to tricken the escape.
As we borrow into the center
 and begin to write the tale.

Withered and weathered
 as the decent is a token
 and we provoke to deliver.
The essence of admitting
 the conditions that struck
 the consent to the consensus.

Now awoken in a realm
 as all sides hidden from reasons.
To hook our kind into and free
 our sixth sense in due time.
The answer thrust out into the open
 by the riddles content.

Utopia’s not our fault
 it is our fault found and retrieving
 it is the trip.
The dilute tonic
 cultivated in space
 and toxic to the touch.

The dial read in a tone like no other.
A stroke that has equated itself
 in every and no direction.

An airborne joke stitched
 into confusion and twitching
 awaiting an endless answer.
Worn in and as comfortable
 and as priceless as your twin
 directly in front of you;
 seeming to have entered the mirror.

Teaching itself to deny the true identity.
Stiffening the code waiting for you to enter.
The riddle is a contest of silence
 and tricken the infinite forgotten escape.
As no reality is worn to admit
 being struck in a vacating contact.


Epidemic

Who’s head to rent next
 and I’d talk as if I
 had never meant;
I the ah!
Epidemic.
How does it seem so real,
 as it never had before.

Until they drop
 silent screams say stop,
 but it could never be so simple.

The deafening of ways
 that lead us to suspicion.
It had to be; almost it must.

There on the dial
 the indecent intermission;
 to consequence
 of what has come under.
What is this property;
 all this nothing next to me.
I’d say it would have to be
 nothing at all.
I never knew; what of now?
I’d think I’d have to
 cover my expenses.

Question the other.
Who’s head to rent next
 I’d talk as if I’d never meant.

I the ah!; polish another
 it’s weak; it’s week.

That’s all it meant to be.
A question of it’s own trilogy.
Nothing is what; it thinks of you.


Octagon Sphere

There is something benevolent in the air
 let’s see if we can chase it down.

Stand out, demand.
Now it stands before you,
 having lost it’s hopes and aspirations.
The only way to be,
 the aspects of it’s own identity; No.

So reckless the way I understand,
 such a crude concept of reality.
Demand.

Worked over and repressed
 and suspiciously indefinite.
Stand out.
Absorbed in sermons,
 broken to the core.
Trace the distances;
 you felt to keep in mind,
 all of these with the array,
 sinking over my shoulder.

What do you do now?
The noise.
The whispers.
The transcidity of shadows cast
 long and jagged along the sphere.

Distempered moments;
 for all to here.

Near is now, stand out. Prevail.
Such a crude concept of reality,
 so reckless the way I understand,
 demand.


Parental Advisory

Pestilence of a fundamental
 value is unadulterated fun.

You're so silent;
 leave your self a mental note.
 this is your revival;
 probably

What am I doing here,
 we won?
There is a while
 between here and now,
 you are the assailant.

You fuck up;
 you fuck up,
 you fuck up?

What do you
 expect that’s it’s set?
Crackle swing project
 or you will be sequestered
 to a militant pit of insect.
Sit pretty to please the cosmos
 but you won’t.

You fuck up.
You fuck up.
You fuck up.

It’s a wisdom I encounter
 don’t forget to check;
 look out, look again
 there is a drip on the floor.

I enter to be a test
 the filth that has been advised.
They didn’t give a fuck about you
 you can do nothing;
 this is your parental advisory.

You fuck up?
You fuck up;
 you fuck up?

That is a great way to be yourself
 tells me your special.


Yonder Pon’s Britches

This life fucking blows.
Stuck in the weeds with the scarecrow
 muddy from the soil;
 the end of my world.

Turns my blood the boil,
 but never had to pass it on
 thankful they got a lot of me?

Introducing people to my brain,
 as the scarecrow stares.
Every hoisted hair soaked in sweat.
Watching the rodents run for cover
 each and every found their lover;
 I hope they mate for me.

Out of the breeze
 just enough
 to roll in the leaves.
Sick of this life,
 I wasted this eternity
 as it is spent like pennies.

Leave a little but don’t give me any;
 to immature to just slash and frustrate.
Stand back they’ve begun to instigate.
Sick of this life
 soaked in rain like bloody urine,
 do I ever prefer.

Get me a weapon to hold on my skin,
 slung back and timid before the strike begins.
Shocked by the demon;
 like a vigilantly descending from the rain,
 now a blaze.

Get off the rubber and stomp their ashes,
 what stocks at midnight’s prevail?
Another way we are stuck in this life is barren,
 save me; chase them away,
 sorry for the turmoil and the scarecrows decay.

The ants are tugging on Yonder Pon’s britches;
 rolled over and ready to squeal,
 cause I can’t take it anymore
 stuck in a rut playing the whore.


Demented

You have no motive
 it’s to insane this;
 perfect.

Her broken. My spirit minds me
 I think;  tick,  entwined deny me.

I never heard anything,
 not you, not you,
 the rhythm is written
 and we can’t contain it.
Don’t ask again, so
 I can’t explain with?

The torrent is strained
 with an indivised guilt
 hover and thrown
 to a paralyzed scope.
To a drone reality,
 so the dream is in it.

The rhythm is written
 and we can’t contain it.
The broken spirit minds me,
 so let’s take it away
 and turn this higher,
 for the live wire.

The ritual is chasing and
 it’s peaked and reclining
 the time divine.
Climb into the sky.
We’re explosive
 to the core and winding.

Your locked out
 lost and skeptically stoked.
Under and into ever searching
 and I sit here fucked
 with you just pushing.

Forcing the remedy
 I’ve clocked and maimed
 to enter the mine.
Don’t tame this
 or you’ve gone to far
 and no way
 to retrieve your cent.
The token you are
 as the live wire.


Scope

A scope on halloween
 acorn found and
 left in my favorite pocket
 of worn pants.

After one month
 refound on week three
 and it was suppose to
 be soaked in water.
After one.

After lots of good
 passionate sex
 and the condem attempt
 that always goes through.

The pants carelessly
 left on the floor
 end of the bed
 in a strange house.

Not enough sensation
 the acorn in my pocket
 stepped on and
 broken giving luck.
Now I’m the wizard.

I won worship
 and envy
 for being careless
 and not following.
Rules that were
 laid out on this,
 halloween hell.


Yod

The soft slow movements
 the troubles of doubt
 as they walk by
 as people on the street.
Lost to society
 as to entice
 bring it through to me.

I’m just a peel
 said wear a frown
 let it down.
As you intend
 liberate my skull
 for the dive.

I get lost in a lot of things
 entering and exiting
 in their own
 mindless emerging rampage.
Where am I?
Where I be,
 because I’m here?

Just a peel
 said wear a frown
let it down?
As you intend
 liberate my skull
 for the dive.

I don’t want to know.
What you want with this one?
When all is said
 and all is done.

All at once
 you still look like you’d
 inflict for destiny?
What’s to understand.

Then what happens
 when you blow your fuse
 put it in your change box?

Don’t let your self
 amount to nothing
 and you shouldn’t talk
 as though it is you;
 and then dimensia
 sinks in and
 you’ll never be the same again.
The reason of being
 is slipping away.

You’re your own transmission
 I came from here
 to find it there.


Obscure

We’re in overtime
 without a case.
What’s the word
 of the mocking bird?

This machine is chaos,
 this limp is chaos;
 this limp is out.

A game of denial
 from the cold
 known to the name
 that impedes me
 onto your rocker
 and shell out
 a little happiness
 for my self.
We’re moving out?

Racket of the mind.
I’m purely obscure
 the moment to cry,
 the laughter to pretend
 and we know why.

Are you talking to me
 just give me the answer.


Odyssey Chaos

How are you doing?
This is the question of
 consequence.

This is the decent
 of an impression
 for anymore and
 an invisible decoration
 troubled by the decor.

Reason of coincidence,
 however it came
 from admisted the parody.
This has been me too
 I mind the,
 odyssey chaos.


Tilt

Let me back soon,
 I want out.
What’s my fault,
 but an old cry?
That took us the signals alone.

Whatever then
 don’t believe me
 now all to know
 we are in the red.

Get loaded; wasted
 get wasted; loaded.
What can I say?
Willing and able.

Some people snap,
 some turn,
 some forgotten,
 while in the yearn.

Let me back soon
 I only told enough
 and your in the way
 sitting still.

Spite existence
 as we are sure
 torn apart.
I think we’re slightly
 off center
 without mention.