Unidentified Flying Poem
By
Top+secret+information
Hhhhuuuuusssshhhh
AREA 51
Is that the place where cows have wheels?
WOW
Cows don't move, they just go moo.
UFP
somewhat of cylindrical shape, a Frisbee-like device
Sacred rhythm
Hades
Monkey
JUMP
Monkey
Say no evil
Hear no evil
See no evil
Sheol floods at high tide
DOWN…or…
Monkey
Hades
Sacred rhythm
What's up?
I have come here off response to my action poem. I like the flapper on your site.
Contact the lady Picasso. Just popped in to say hello.
as in artificial light
an illuminati flunkey
a shadow puppeteer
transmutin elements
here….
Does it matter
if I'm not
if you're not
if we're not
does it matter
does it
does it?
Down is Up
God
I wish I knew!
I wish. I wish upon a stray star
A fast car
A ticket out of here
A lonely night driving
On an empty highway
Any way but my way
I wish
I wish
and in the silence of my dreams
I sometimes wonder
if the distant thunder
of a well-remembered nightmare
might jolt me from today
with an answer for tomorrow
NERYS
Stay with god
Stop with me
I have more answers
I will channel the answers through me.
Gods and dogs and spoons that bend beneath the light of answers,
the wait the time the ticking foolishness of an empty thought and when
the bomb explodes I'll still be nowhere nearer to the start again.
I DON'T THINK it does it doesn't matter constant change if it's here
it will surely be gone tomorrow it doesn't matter
Tomorrow I'll want different answers different questions
different dreams and all the time I'll be the same
I have to go now I have answers will share them later I off on a
vision quest for truth when I return I'll share what I learned
maybe some in there for you or not you will have to decide.
I'LL WATCH and wait and scour for answers hope you see much
TRUTH: Like God, in the eye of the beholder.
Monkey's evil
Angel's devil
PSYCHOTIC MANIFESTO
An age of reason
and industry
sparked
a rage against the rational
when faith had been dismembered…
how was the spirit to animate itself
in the sterile solution of science and predictability?
….from unconscious lives lived in
the blackest dawn
when hidden truths spoke of a reality
too far removed…
refuse what is empirical
behavioral tutelage….
canonizing right
condemning wrong
anathematizing imagination
beating immortality
down with fists of what is moral
in keeping with the greater peace of man…
…we are metaphysically
gagged and bound…
--we are all surrealism—
THREE “COMMUNICATING VESSELS”
In the neon war
everything will drain
technicolor blood
having entered
the gone madhouse
language itself
will falter
on the threshold
of the moonwalks
grim totality
will spin doctor
the broken toys of shadows
lost fortune prowl cars
in the dust bowl cycle
all systems collapse
eventually…
…we are distancing
ourselves from the slow garbage
hidden in the clownish vacuums
of chaos
and cosmos
the strange normals arrive
Hopi pope; of surrealism
The stubborn words refused to write
they went on strike
for any reason to wake up
from these diamond shacks of existence
ah, communicating vessels, automatic Frisbee throwers….
playing catch the poem with andre breton…
we are all surrealism? Could be true, it's as if I'm tossing a coin (heads/tails) in the air and it shall never fall…interesting piece,
illuminera ---andrew
JUST GOING
off of what Dali
said of himself
DOWN, DOWN
Yea, down.
IF: we lived before the internet age
how would we have met
if we lived before the advent of language
we wouldn't have said nuthin' yet
through sublimation or the animal self
that breaks through the veil at night
or sometimes just a bolt of blue
cartoon balloon idea light
imagery fantastic incongruous juxtapositions
we are humanity's wizardry magicians.