Everybody loves cute puppies and drooling cats!

More writing, more pictures. Nothing important to anyone but me. But you want to look, you want to read. The cute sick puppy compels you.

3/6/12

Job hunting ballet

Hidden deep in the Jungle

Countless exhibitions have failed

To bring back even one petal

Nothing tangible

Only allegory and fabrications

Chanted by elders to the young.

Generations of myths woven

An endless tapestry

Telling tales

Incapable of being forgotten.

The integrity of belief

Balanced

On Hope and Ego.

 

9/14/09

I’m waiting for you outside

and it’s cold in the sun

But I am patient, like time.

The moments are always the same and bright

and never not only one.

So now I wait with tears turned stars,

only for me. Alone.

But never alone.

9/9/09

Torn from moment to moment

Humming bird, brain fart

This is the middle

Of the shift, all dizzy.

Blind to nothing, but

Unable to see anything, but

I need to stop looking

Need to redirect

Need to focus

Need, deep breaths.

Stop panting

Stop shaking

Deep breaths

Stop twitching.

Focused

To the rhythm inside

Unaware of the noise

Outside,

Just the task at hand.

Reckless moments need to stop

This teetering is not acclimating

The offers of endless wisdom

The volumes of tranquil Now,

Repeating over and over again.

Now is.

9/3/09

The regeneration generator

Will not ignite, the switch is broken.

The doors are swollen, bloated and in the way.

Tripping over limbs must look like dancing from outside.

The reality is that the suffering of others is

Pleasing to view from the observation area.

Waiting turns to watch the next one in line shot down

Makes you smile as a mechanism fires a bolt between the ears.

Painless.

I’m sick of honesty! I’m sick of having no one

To tell the truth to! I’m sick of being.

Remove from within the mess. Remove the layers of humanity

I don’t want to feel like this anymore, but nothing seems to change.

The world can be a beautiful place when you are a part of it.

2009?

This Golden Age

Of decay we stand proud

Against a backdrop of god and glory.

Abundance is the light of desire

In these times of change.

These words used to come so easily,

But I allowed you to beat them out of me!

No longer will this dam stand, holding back the blood in my body.

Shock

The walls are broken or breaking

The air is vibrating

The mood is changing.

Necessity supersedes desire

In times of suffering

Split not twice.

2011?

I would like to fall apart

I would like to touch your heart

I would like to be able to feel

I would like some more time to heal

I would like the world to stop

And when it does, I’d like to quietly get off

I would like to live a lie

And I would like to touch the sky

I would like to see the truth

I would like to not get hurt.

          I would like to find

          Your palace in the sky

          Grab you by your throat

          And throw you back to Earth

          And show you what you’ve done

          What you did to us first

And cannot be undone.

8/15/07

The last drops of blood drip out of the radio

Static means not moving

Frozen in space

The echo of silence beating against itself

Bruised beyond awareness.

The magnitude of disbelief

Rumbling

Turning over and over

          Rhythmic like an unbalanced washing machine

          And the scream

          Is in you.

Within that important place

Behind someone else’s eyelids.

And temptations flicker on and off

A celebration of inspired ideas

Exploding in the distance

The faint smell of burnt hotdogs,

Manure, gasoline, cigarettes

And maybe a little vomit and weed.

2007?

This is more than real

Say it,

Now as forever

This is the world

In a word

Sent down from under the parting folds in heaven

The triumphant return

Of dynamic creation.

That first one was fake,

Because faking it somehow gets you

In the mood.

But every single time after that

And until you were collapsed

And done

Were waves of electric light and

Touch shattering across touch

And connecting to our own universe

I know you feel it too.

Undated

Lips press down upon lips

Pressing hard against lips

And gasping for air between lips

That grinds and melts into lips

Longing to feel the pressure of my lips

Feeling the pressure of your lips

Pushing up forcing down

The volatile combination of passion and

Exhaustion, lust and pre-dawn inebriation.

Beautiful and decadent,

Dirty and sublime.

3/28/01

The reason I care

I’m such a bitter jaded fuck

Ugly, like after the war.

In life, these things are simple:

The ugly prophet and the truth

Teacher and student,

Seeking symbols to translate meaning

To other worlds, so that even when no one cares,

We all have the ability to understand.

The deception is blatant

Nothing is as simple as it seems.

2/11/01

The electronic hiss and buzz of static

Across the terminals of silence

This is a conception,

An epiphany.

It is a chorus of angels

Singing silent hymns to the creator of your choice.

It is blood from the eyes

as you stare into the sun.

It’s the silver scream of the moon

As she impales herself on the Earth

Over and over again.

This sound is inside

It is our link

With what was and will be.

But it’s not quite now.

We have all seen each other

From the inside.

That is why we can’t view each other from the outside.

12/19/00 1:17PM

Spent the last 15 minutes

 In bed,

Thinking… about getting up

Thinking… about not wanting to move.

          Demotivated makes me feel devalued

          Deactivated, machine whirring slowly to a halt.

          Deflated position becoming an option

          With great disregard to the sender.

A foreign language appears on the walls

(In black and white)

The subject quietly changed to

Soundtrack.

As whispers slink across the floor

To rest at my feet.

The wonders of modern machinery

And the miracles of science

Curiosities that are yet to appear

And a magical connection

Between heart and eyes.

Oh,

and there are these.

 

 

So, yeah...

It's about time!

It has been almost a year since my last post. It's about time to share some of the stuff I've been working on.

Here is a short and silly video of me and my friend Maude walking towards the Williamsburg Bridge on our way to see Cut Hands in February.

Quite a few new PKtP tracks, in case you haven't been listening on soundcloud.  The three most recent...

Cute Sweet in the way

I was sitting in the garden

Meditating

Contemplating the nature of things

When an Angel appeared to me

Beautiful and neutral

And only aware of it’s own Nature (It’s own Existence)

Innocently deceptive

Maniacally gentile

They as one in voices

Reflected in two

Approached me with a calming  resign in their eyes

And terror in its motion 

Long bony divine fingers

Probe sternly at my chest

Creating

A stern sense of panic

In my heart….

I took a deep breath

And waited –

This blink of a pause

Held on

For an eternity

The Angels blank eyes peered deep into mine

And it exhaled as it opened its mouth

Anxiously reassuring

An Angel told me that you were a bitch

And all was now right with the World

Trumpets, they sounded

And mountains shook

As the Angel faded away

(Use Me)

A soundtrack

Fly (Shit in a Shiny Package)

Shit in a shiny package                                    

- November, 2011

The indignant

Will feel the wrath of the suffering.

Count the days

This is only the beginning.

This is now.

This is a spark in a specific point

In always.

Suffocation and attrition

Invisible behind the glamour.

40 years ago it was ok to be revolutionary!

But “god” forbid

You think to yourself,

“Thank god for 9/11

and those damned terrorists.”

Otherwise they’d be blowing up the stock exchange.

 A picture from my now gone myspace page. Yes, that is my foot.

 

What has become of all of this?

And here is more writing by me.  All before 2000 (I think):

Sleep would be a lifetime better than this.       

Is that too much to ask for?

Just a few years of sleep

Before I go on and grow up

Or just grow dead

To the situations bombarding me.

Sleep is such a prize here

Earned through labor of thought

And the process of art.

Exhaustion is not self-inflicted.

Sleep is not self-induced.

The pain around me is self-indulgent.

There is too much going on to choose

Between one and the other.

______________________________

5/2/97 7:45AM

Sometimes, when it’s really quiet

And I’m alone,

I can hear your heart beating

And little sighs and giggles

And all is well with the world.

My own vacuum releases and relaxes

The power of clarity

Into the valve at the base of my skull

Otherwise used for feeding.

____________________________

 (A dream)

I tried to call you last night

You weren’t home.

So I went to your house and I broke in.

I tried to find you

Thinking perhaps you were asleep,

All to no avail.

So I rifled through your possessions

Trying to find a clue,

Something to show to the police

When they took me in.

Some evidence.

Some proof of what I saw.

But the police never showed up and

I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed

That I found nothing.

1997

________________________

Not a passion for digital alarm clocks - 11/19/96 1ish AM

Sleepy time visions of you

Of goddess of my sleep.

This moment separates one of 30 per second.

Images like forgotten gold.

It’s all there

Digital memory

Magnetic signals

Remembering how I feel.

Somehow in your poetic tragic

And your carefree whimsy

Both cynical.

This match of stories

Holds close to me in the pit of sentiment.

-That is a memory-

Captured in a moment of truth

Held above deception

And beyond question.

No more tiptoeing around

A ring of fire.

That is just another way

For me to say

I love you.

____________________________

12/13/99

How weakness of the mind can benefit culture -

Empty promises are still promises,

They still exist

In a world of ghosts.

Unfulfilled promises are rays of the black sun

Nourishing a negative harvest.

This world coexists

But motion makes us blind

And to the naked eye negative exists as unhappy

                                                               ~Bitter.

Here I watch thoughts leak

Through holes you drilled in my head.

I want to lift you from your ashes

But I’m no humanitarian.

Anyway, you don’t want my help,

You don’t even understand why you need it.

____________________

 12/28/99

Impatient

It’s almost the end of the world

Or some would have you believe.

Firecrackers or bombs?

We will all jump when they go boom.

I’m waiting for something to happen,

But I’m not holding my breath

And I’m not holding anyone’s hand

Because I’m not jumping.

I can’t even see the bottom from here.

And I can’t wait for the beginning

To happen again.

And I can’t wait for the fizzle of the dud

That will end up caked on your faces,

Like so much politically correct blackface

On the cartoon cat we’re supposed to forget

Ever existed.

Alone with my candle

The ferocious POW

Will fill the air with a cloud of smoke

Scented like daises.

And we’ll pack our boxes

And move to the next room.

________________________

4/20/97 7:58PM

Love is spiny tentacles,

Long and invisible.

Infect the skin.

Often only wounding the surface.

Shallow wounds are easy to remove,

A little rubbing alcohol on the skin,

A lit match… The poison is weakest in shallow infections.

When the wound penetrate through the skin

To the muscle or deeper

Serious or permanent damage may occur.

It is treatable with constant medication.

Take care of yourself.

________________ 

Human nature mistrusts magick moments

Magick in any length of time is a moment ripped

From the frame of understanding.

The bones have been replaced to make room for extra skin

To grow over the mountain of fingers.

Turning and fine-tuning

To the electric buzz of the universe.

Are you a transmitter?

Or a receiver?

Signals sent across a sea of moments

Frozen in plastic.

A paperweight of memory

Rips out the warm heart of nostalgia.

Then, a single glance

The softest odor

Sends you reeling back

To when we were gods.

But you can never fully recall anything more than total loss.

In the distance perhaps

A glimmer of the glory of pure joy

Could send you to your assumed recall.

Or the flash of electricity in the air

May put a smile across your face.

But sometimes it feels like that smile was stolen

Off of the face of a child.

And you’re so wrapped up in your own selfish past

That it only feels like heaven.

___________________  

 (so there)

It's a shame to see this kind of stupid alive and well, even if it's aesthetically pleasing. Or maybe it isn't hostile, maybe it is meant to embrace ethnicity? Or whatever. Fuck everybody.

Oh, by the way! A reminder to check out two new songs by

Poison Kills the Princess 

Beauty and filth live side by side. Each often invisible to the other.

Knowing this, perspective is at least partially a choice.

Not too much, it might kill you.

 

Tingler

A new track by 

Poison Kills the Princess 

&

Catsfromheaven 

 

Poison Kills the Princess via remote viewing

Like a Breath - A new track by PKtP

 

Meaning is meaningless

 (some things I need)

Planted from seedlings on 6/1

A downside of work.

Poison Kills the Princess over and over again

New music by PKtP means good time for all!

The new track, 

Beneath it

is the soundtrack to the solipsist genocide.

It's time to wake up the dreamer & shoot them in the face.