Last Thing On My Mind. part 3

The ringing never stops. It has become my friend, my council. It defines a lack of care through a hedonistic desire to talk with god, to know the all known in the real place where nothing happens, where time is only elapsed by awareness of the child conscious. Transcend consciousness and everything starts apart from the “what is now?” which is dependent on the will.
I love this place for here I can fulfill loneliness, I can be alone, completely alone, there is no one else, boundaries disappear heaven is nothing. Sound is the vessel of this journey, pure and sweet harmony, a simple complex.
Devoured by illusion is the common way to die, drained of life by lies self delivered, self to the self, one truth alone will never break the code – same rules apply! Aliens celebrate this demise for easy pickings ensue a feast for all with a taste for the negative.
One small knock and the dominoes start to fall, a mixed up message or a missed meal, panic attacks the feeble. Disconnection from the natural world creates a void, can’t cope with the weather, can’t earth to the mother.
The right hand does not know the left.
Build and destroy. Build and destroy as some lame excuse for equilibrium, the fear that if one is allowed to grow the other will feel threatened. So we stagnate growth to feel secure in our mutual weakness.
This is where our evolution stops, where the numbers mount and multiply and because there is no unification, there is dilution and dissemination, the complexity of nature is stymied and we suffocate our selves…
So unification is the complexity. Without unification we will continue to repeat this process that history dictates.
This tree we are will die too young, never attaining its potential, never reaching the dizzy heights of understanding the real purpose of existence, our story will become dust blown through the eons of space forever more….
So where there is life there is potential.
All life should be cared for and protected from disease and desolation and with this when unification is attained there will be no enemy or entity to fear.
We sit, we wait, patience the virtue that will unroll the truth of the being, hiding behind that well turned suit, the stylish scarf, the shoes tell more, the shoes tell tales, tales of security, well bred with their shining polish, well bred with the perfectly formed knot in the braided lace. Our destinies live simultaneously, regardless of creed or background, our destinies are the same!
We wait, collectively, alone. We hunt together in packs wild with hunger for the left over traits of yesterday’s truth. Devoured by panic strength becomes rare, weakness becomes weaker. Destiny calls us all the same either way.
The child devours truth like fruit. The child believes all it is told, all it needs and all it is commanded. The child waits obediently for its next system. The child is lost when the flow of lies are stemmed. The child needs its next symptom to survive the cutting edge to the devolution. The quickest glance sells its own tale, set to the backdrop of its own truths. The only connection the pack has is its similarity. When the fractious nerve of fear is disconnected, when stories of woe become history. When love becomes as unnecessary as hate and sobriety is attained. When trees can grow where its seeds are dropped resolute in its aim.
Star child, she made me curious with her opaque eyes, lost, searching for her home, her truth with her rag time blues and beckoning warmth we grew, twins in the sack, whispering “always true for truth is the noblest”
Progression races, divine in its ability, Omni-present in its effect, negative in its purpose, devouring all in its path in its name; requiring sacrifice at every turn. Species after species falling graceless, their shame lost with them, their light lost with them…
Mono-prophetic destiny gouges its way through time, ripping and snorting, hating all, absorbing complexity, distorting the light, weighting the balance, dark star consumption, matter irrelevant in our airy world all absorbed…
So, the challenge is the balance, the challenge is awareness, is nutrition, is consideration and attention to detail, the challenge is to be multi dimensional to pacify and fight, the challenge is to propagate complexity.
Divided we fight together we fall.
This time the amusement park fails to deliver; the stereotyping becomes way too dry. The shadows dance on concrete, the only thing left alive. Our intent on this journey was confused, distorted by too many singularities arriving at their destinations as predicted, at the same time. The moment, overcrowded, collapses under the weight of its own stupidity and BOOM we divide and fight, we fight the good things, we scold the spitting child, petulant in His knowing…
So with sadness the witness took her own desperate mortality too where all is dead for all time.
For me what is left is the mutuality of being a common stranger, of being alone where loneliness need not be, for being allowed to ask… Why?
Curtain closes…
The audience shuffle miserably out of the theatre into their beautiful apocalypse.
Peace to one and all….

Memories head the story at the pass.
Such a sweet boy to make such a mess
It is so hard to explain who I am when the visions hold the walls bare
Time stopped still on the altar
Love stole away trust, the clock hung to rust
The wind blew away sense within that so long a breath
Always out, never in.
Suffocation starts the party
Does this get any better?
Lost sands vacuum held
Existence denied
Life’s amoebic pond sullied story
Beliefs message holds my child so far away, just a phone call they said, just pick up the phone and all will be fine.
So I get the answer message lying to me, pride dissolved, saturated life solutions disseminated evaporation can’t take any more, bottle bottomed on sandy shore, gentle come down, ahh so pure, loves sweet gift just a short fall. So I fell like a tree, like a tree I slapped the earth, like a tree I dropped, I died.
My reflection lives on, holding the fort whilst the body reformulates. Triangular memories prism forges the spectrums illusion of your rainbow love, one colour per man, one to hold the kids, one for dinner, one to keep to brush your hair, one as a spare. Oh brutality how far you’ll bend to find a soul still green that snaps and slaps your face to break the spell.
With the rain every leaf is washed, mothered, held high in esteem, nurtured beyond belief. When the wind comes to test their strength, clinging to their precipice, then released in to the great unknown, that short fuse burned out.
The sun bringing the potential of real power.
Nurtured love, bringer of light with kind actions, beating the dust for water, once again the wheel spins, the tables turn and from those slimy waters crawl the modern kings ancestors drawn by buckets cast down holes in search of life. Discovery comes with deaths release. When the debate is over and all have won, when the leaf lets go and decomposes on the grass. Then the story can begin and begin it does, infallible safety switches built into the programme. Self destructing alienation, social un-acceptance, rules and laws trampled into the skin, tattooed on the brains of lost generations to come. Then there will be, after the pestilence of growth, the new breed, which no one can tell or question or love or hate. A being so sure so fearless so ignorant of what makes for pain.
I can do this.
I can dance.
Irreverent beat.
Souls beast.
I will join you.
And so learn.
How to kill you…
Heart and soul hanging threaded bled battered unread, in need of comfort from the place that cares, the need for acceptance in the clan that writes its own rules, abide not and you are alone…

Patience is the friend of the grower, ally to the knower and the slayer of life’s fools. Good things come to those that wait or so they say. Idiots just get debts and age.
When lovers wait they learn the truth, to step in time and dance, when to shout and when to shy, each has it place in the game of life. There is always a loser and the loser always wins the prize with wide open eyes in need of all now, but loves bait makes you wait and wait and learn and wonder and yearn until at last time has flown and all the answers are known, trust is formed and friendships made maimed and resurrected. For love takes time…
The water always escapes, disregarding implications, proving that humanity has to express to exist, has to love and be loved to be, has to shout and be beaten to see. So as the water breaks the taught lines scattered on the skin, attempts at containing the fears and whims, the question asked, the moment passed, crisis diverted, withdrawn, remapped.
All this talk for a stain on the face
Desperate for mutuality, understanding and some tender embrace
Two-sided twin timing in one place. The quantum misunderstood.
Impossible to quantify as there is no quantity, gauges lost through over use of those three words, more action less talk, the action slowly forms and takes shapes and grows one day into a real thing if only existing between my eyes and yours, when it can be touched and felt, then it is real and worthy, until then imagination is a gutless friend takes your hand your time your cash your stash all in the name. Those precious little words do not abuse if use is what we want, and we do…
I helped you too stop burying the butterflies before each show. I think I helped you know that butterflies can burn your soul, and then you will never grow and that the devil dances with time, drawing out the last few bars, distracting from the vision. Stretching the moment until it is too late. So to task we have to take ourselves to try to make our poor lives grow. Misspent deeds on drink and weed create distance from the uncertain goal. We build our bricks and heat the sky, trap and tear and murder blind, burn the oil then wonder why life is such a chore, why love is such a bore.
So twist the road another way, create a fork and take it, simple love don’t break it. Don’t root too deep for the waters creep around your ankles after time. Natural forms creating thoughts, a twisted branch becomes an answer, a petal a question, and money becomes a disaster, a mental vision. Equality is all. Privilege belongs to all that force a thought alongside a smile. There is no beginning. There is no end. There is only now to have, now to want, now to be, now to give, now to create the perfect synthesis. Failure to act is the only sin.

Sold on you… I am learning how to feel some things; I didn’t know how to trust in love but now I know she is my sister. The time bomb ticked and ticked, then it didn’t go off like I knew it wouldn’t. Nasty little panics provoked by thieves to scare away the guards, gossip and rumor working its way through the little cracks, then freezing and splitting, a frenzied gathering of greed whilst trust lay dormant in a forgotten cupboard in an empty house, loneliness the style, the choice. I don’t know how to be in this place of dreams, no one will look, there is no where to piss, caste gone crazy, untouchables all…self imposed fear from reciting the lines from believing the lies that they then became real. Separated conversation driven to wonder what dies and lives in all of these other brains, these fellow people that need and want just the same as me, that cant survive without just the same as me, all of the feelings and doubts misconceptions rules, just the same as me. It all makes me want to learn the other language, the one I don’t know, the one I was half taught once by the wolves but was rescued by you and you taught me another, the language of solitude and self preservance, the language of our strange love, the love that now needs to learn from itself in order to survive. Strength needs to be ridden and preserved protected and honed, shared and destroyed, picked apart by crows poking at the juicy bits first and leaving the rotten flesh to the worms.
The cross that symbolizes everlasting peace that forces belief That weight that pulls the symbol around your neck and scars and chokes and tugs the thought that killed the cat with a twisted mirth, the joke is on all of us that accept disinformation as a way of life…. Sleep with your eyes open and watch for the break and watch your back for to bear a cross it will surely snap. I love the green and the growing season, self-prophetisation always there, she never fails, always waiting to prevail, so much to offer, so much to give. These are the words and techniques we need be given to live with, instead we have misogynistic laws passed down from the time when the sharp edge of the sword wrote the word and with old, old blood the word was signed… we need to know more, need to be more, we need to have less to be content…Ritualistic belief makes greed…greed makes poverty. Poverty makes war…
These impure thoughts that float this boat and floods these decks. The imagination super pill that makes us act for good or ill and those that don’t take it just remain… still. Action re-action action re-action the only must. Condescending faux intelligence drives the nails that seal the coffin the artists seek to avoid, reap and rape out on the same date, once related.
I would probably rather die than talk to you, than share with you even a lie, I would probably rather suffer pain than see you again.
Back to the beginning is the only way to go forwards and furious is a hard good way but I want my roots in deeper if I am going to attack the world with a volley of neurosis very soon. … I need to detoxify… I need to focus on health
It is a fast pace we live right now, the competition is strong in every corner, to compete is to play to play is to obey to obey is to be controlled to be controlled is to be a slave and that as we all know is a willful crime. It is a hard thing to remain free, away from external control systems away from money and debt away from the game.
Do I need to sacrifice myself to prove I exist? Exist external from the very nature that intended us to co-habit this world with every other sentient creature.
I want, I want, I want… I want, I want, I want I want, I want, I want I want, I want, I want I want, I want, I want I want, I want, I want……….. I get.
Who deserves what in this world of dreams, amoeba born and bred and suffered then dead, how many lives create an oil field.. I like that film where a wicked wizard and a good wizard had a fight over what is right and wrong and the good wizard won and froze the bad wizards spells in magic ice and that as we burn the core of our energy and warm our atmosphere ( remember it is just a film ) that all the bad evil savior redeeming sicko sex slave demons are released and Armageddon happens. Cum-ca…I wish nothing could ever be that simple that Hollywood could predict it- ha… I personally like to think about love…babies…. Warm fires… Fleetwood mac…red wine sickness.. … Tomorrow brings what ever you want it to bring is a lesson I always knew but never listened to.
The sun god, the passion maker, everybody is beautiful when they are free, tube stalking, moon chasing, lost in the under world, fleeing from one love to prove another, winding webs around the ankles of the children so they will be safe, their teeth are sharp and they know how to bite… now what is thought becomes real, telepathy invented, created by babies who haven’t quiet yet learned to talk but long ago learned to feed and now are trying to find through each others eyes a passage that leads away from the old school religions and trials by judge, how to live , life style choice, systematic soul, chaos taught, sails unfurled silken spun, propelled by photons from the sun, expanding media is the criteria here, there is no faster, there is no bigger there is only life style choice tempo and tune are your own, guidance conducted down copper wires, the only choice is what to choose, options laid out , clear as night and day, as clean as right or wrong as whether to dance or sing the song.
Watching the fat clouds spill their tears then drift along in search of friends then change the form and drift again never to repeat never changing, split in half then reunited peeking through the parties window uninvited. When my species meets your species and for reasons left to the stars we like what we see and feel a need to crossbreed and make another way, to burst another vein, life’s force spoken, there is never any return. Like the polar bear and the grizzly, needs must when things get tough, return is just not an option. So read my D.N.A , find out what I am, who I was and what I will be, learn to twist my genome to suit the needs.. Food riots wrote the rules, reliance on unnatural tools, belief is belief, so unfold that silken sail and wander as the cloud and gather friends and twist them with your soul samurai sword made sharp as love can, death to the warrior, life to the child, rainbows and clouds and giraffes and doves photographs and tales of love, so let baby Scarlett rise above and teach us all a thing………
The heart, the core the engine power control and strong, the family bite the familiar feeling of no fear or fight, tessellating pattern spun, blown apart, lost and won, the story told as the future unfolds, gateways open, pathways laid. Every dream has a possibility, every vision is a play, every fractal tells a tale and spins a web that engenders belief turning dreams into probabilities, born to live, born to love and understand this chemistry this portent spell that weaves between you and me. Did the skies and sea and flowers and leaves when challenge taken and won with a look, with a vision realized, released, returned, reunited developed and drawn, discussion torn, untethered and worn then taught the ageless play…play on… as the trip eases its message across the years, oblivion rushing in, impossible to deny any truth in this circumstance, there is no return, just the one way growth that adjusts its spiral name and changes all of the rules again, sets provisos for nothing, all must play its part, no way out and no return. Hollow carved against the grain, mash it up and start again. Radio Active Detritus falls like only it can, filtered and syphoned weighted and thrown over the bridge bagged and drowned lost souls released and finally found a home with the rubbish, the rocks and the dust, never to feel again. Pressures past, blue skies ahead, pint in hand fresh as bread, gutted like a fish, for your not here to bring it all on
Inspiration comes in unusual forms but it does need to be called, built, wanted and so created. In what form is impossible to say, only that it will be what your mind wants, pro creative force with no direction known, just chosen for being itself on the right side of love, this in its self is an exercise that requires exactly the right sort of energy at exactly the right time at exactly the right place. All seemingly unknowable facts, although hard to pin down they are innate, they are known and can be chosen and used whenever required, whenever the user decides it is time to move along the bus and learn a new lesson to be taken to a new system, to find purpose that suits the need and a need to suit the love.
Don’t lead tribe, don’t bad vibe.
Don’t slip on the grease,
Be easy ease the way,
Play with the gift.
Cast away and drift, cast away and drift.
Discovery is recovery, flow with the stream,
Isn’t everything just as it seems
Cast away and drift, cast away and drift.
Believe in possibility; open your eyes to beauty.
There is only one law and it governs itself.
It can’t be imposed by anybody else.
Cast away and drift
Cast away and drift…………