do the ink blot, dada drop. got a speech around your neck, phrase dangling from ashtrays. do the blot. sun goes down a big blotchy blood boiling, larynx go up a statesman yodel, stately lately, guttural moans of butter fly. pick a century, any century, cut it up, shuffle and glue reprehensible, grab a sensible weapon.
bright skeletons orbit like reasons, bounce off junk smogging up space, revelation two on a killer screw loose from sputnik savior eyes, cracked halos backlit on a vicious love streak, dial spinning, rocks are spinning stringy liquid black, graviton cocktails, streaking goans, prophecy as you’ve never seen! cherubim careen, lion, ox and eagle, soldier, beast and dragon. do the blot, star splattered soul atoll, ezekiel’s scroll tasted like honey, dem bones. zeke got high on a valley of bones, miracle ashtray poems.
half dada (revised)
half dada (revised)
Last edited by mnaz on December 14th, 2009, 6:51 pm, edited 4 times in total.
i'd like to see the movie... HD, cinemascooped outta pure, unadulterated phantasma-historical visions stripped bare from biblical references redefined by color gone wild across the chasms of yesteryear.
front row tickets not necessary.
front row tickets not necessary.
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
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Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
some more of my, ahem, "experimental" writing in trippyvision. glad you like. from some older poems.
as a "poem"--
do the ink blot
clatter around my neck
speech dangling on ashtrays
sun goes a blotchy blood boiling
larynx goes up a statesman yodel
lately stately moans of butter fly
pick a world, any world, cut it up
shuffle and re-glue
bright skeletons, orbiting verbs
bounce off junk smogging up space
revelation two on a killer screw loose
from sputnik cracked halo savior eyes
backlit on a vicious streak, goans streaking
dial spinning, rock spinning, stringy liquid black
winged cherubim careen! prophecy never seen!
lion, ox and eagle, warrior and beast
do the ink blot splatter soul atoll
dem bones, ezekiel ate a honey scroll
zeke got high on a valley of bones
dem walking ashtray poems
as a "poem"--
do the ink blot
clatter around my neck
speech dangling on ashtrays
sun goes a blotchy blood boiling
larynx goes up a statesman yodel
lately stately moans of butter fly
pick a world, any world, cut it up
shuffle and re-glue
bright skeletons, orbiting verbs
bounce off junk smogging up space
revelation two on a killer screw loose
from sputnik cracked halo savior eyes
backlit on a vicious streak, goans streaking
dial spinning, rock spinning, stringy liquid black
winged cherubim careen! prophecy never seen!
lion, ox and eagle, warrior and beast
do the ink blot splatter soul atoll
dem bones, ezekiel ate a honey scroll
zeke got high on a valley of bones
dem walking ashtray poems
extended to include a few more (sort of) "cut up" old pomes...
Do the ink blot. Sun go down a blotchy blood boiling, larynx go up a statesman yodel, clatter dangle from my neck, stately lately the speech of gun butter flies. Pick a world, cut it up, shuffle and re-glue. Bright bones, verbs in orbit bounce off space junk, read Revelation Two on a killer screw loose from Sputnik cracked halo eyes, backlit savior on a mean streak, goans streak, stringy liquid black, dial spinning, rock spinning, winged cherubim careen, prophecy as you’ve never seen! Lion, ox and eagle, the beast! Do the ink blot splatter soul atoll, Ezekiel ate a honey scroll, he got high on a valley of bones, dem bones, walking ashtray poems.
You’ll be sorry if they get the bambam sun, when the sky turn all Gauguin loud orange scour, when they come with their narrow-minded skin. We don’t negotiate! I love the smell of summit, noble gases, jet fume whine, skin metal glare. The genre peaks in a flying buttress of metal screech, cathedral of aural woe, dancing on square waves. Drink metal. Slim Pickens flew over Russia with aluminum skin and a hurricane, envoys huff diplomat gas. Will you be ready, or have some drooping excuse?
Jonny Rockit is a parabolic arc past Pluto to a postcard beach in Bimini, to drink potholes of starfish, sell saltwater to the minnows, take crude samples, Jonny Vector perpetual, strapped to a stem. Jellyfish wiggle to primordial wobble, vibrate to their music. Will you be ready? He hate the ocean, salt sting of birth, rain maker, crashing armada. He love the way it crash, incessant babble, radio in a driving rain. Roll ya post izzm blues, some pour sole on the air, acid rain, no conversation, holes eaten in the band. Izzm skizzm nitch switch to my brand of coffee while you sleep, it’s all coming out , nary a peep. Crank my distortion, strum yer guitar, Hunter S. watch TV in some Vegas bar, Nixon is a fleshy gargoyle in a cloud. “Sacrifice,” he repeats, snow and hissing screens, snakes crawl from festive carpeting. The Politburo had ‘em too, fat jowls, uranium sludge. Tonnage pile up.
In Hemingway vs. Mushroom Cloud, he stood there, ordered another rum. I know a great god will come from the sky. Hemingway won the axle toss at the Games, puffed a missile stogie, little biohazard puffs, drank scotch from gasoline cans, feasted on lightning, and hoodlum poets washed down, great species like algae blooms on ageless ground, kingdoms on a pin head, pinhead on a king, storm the beaches and miss the ocean wet, a great temptation to owe creation a debt.
Do the ink blot. Sun go down a blotchy blood boiling, larynx go up a statesman yodel, clatter dangle from my neck, stately lately the speech of gun butter flies. Pick a world, cut it up, shuffle and re-glue. Bright bones, verbs in orbit bounce off space junk, read Revelation Two on a killer screw loose from Sputnik cracked halo eyes, backlit savior on a mean streak, goans streak, stringy liquid black, dial spinning, rock spinning, winged cherubim careen, prophecy as you’ve never seen! Lion, ox and eagle, the beast! Do the ink blot splatter soul atoll, Ezekiel ate a honey scroll, he got high on a valley of bones, dem bones, walking ashtray poems.
You’ll be sorry if they get the bambam sun, when the sky turn all Gauguin loud orange scour, when they come with their narrow-minded skin. We don’t negotiate! I love the smell of summit, noble gases, jet fume whine, skin metal glare. The genre peaks in a flying buttress of metal screech, cathedral of aural woe, dancing on square waves. Drink metal. Slim Pickens flew over Russia with aluminum skin and a hurricane, envoys huff diplomat gas. Will you be ready, or have some drooping excuse?
Jonny Rockit is a parabolic arc past Pluto to a postcard beach in Bimini, to drink potholes of starfish, sell saltwater to the minnows, take crude samples, Jonny Vector perpetual, strapped to a stem. Jellyfish wiggle to primordial wobble, vibrate to their music. Will you be ready? He hate the ocean, salt sting of birth, rain maker, crashing armada. He love the way it crash, incessant babble, radio in a driving rain. Roll ya post izzm blues, some pour sole on the air, acid rain, no conversation, holes eaten in the band. Izzm skizzm nitch switch to my brand of coffee while you sleep, it’s all coming out , nary a peep. Crank my distortion, strum yer guitar, Hunter S. watch TV in some Vegas bar, Nixon is a fleshy gargoyle in a cloud. “Sacrifice,” he repeats, snow and hissing screens, snakes crawl from festive carpeting. The Politburo had ‘em too, fat jowls, uranium sludge. Tonnage pile up.
In Hemingway vs. Mushroom Cloud, he stood there, ordered another rum. I know a great god will come from the sky. Hemingway won the axle toss at the Games, puffed a missile stogie, little biohazard puffs, drank scotch from gasoline cans, feasted on lightning, and hoodlum poets washed down, great species like algae blooms on ageless ground, kingdoms on a pin head, pinhead on a king, storm the beaches and miss the ocean wet, a great temptation to owe creation a debt.
Last edited by mnaz on December 15th, 2009, 2:45 am, edited 4 times in total.
echoes of orphaned punks with eucalyptic haloes ringing planetary geodes in four-four time with aliases dancing like puppets tied up in hemp
defrosted from the true son of macabre born of rusted sainthood of old school choppers leaving harley as a make-believe on winter's eve with the skies dapper in top hats of gray and ties of dark blue blindfolding the all seeing eye roaming across tepid waters steaming with rusted petroleum.
btw... me gusta este - dem walking ashtray poems
better than - dem bones, walking dust poems.
altho the second one would not be a choice if the first wasn't the first,
defrosted from the true son of macabre born of rusted sainthood of old school choppers leaving harley as a make-believe on winter's eve with the skies dapper in top hats of gray and ties of dark blue blindfolding the all seeing eye roaming across tepid waters steaming with rusted petroleum.
btw... me gusta este - dem walking ashtray poems
better than - dem bones, walking dust poems.
altho the second one would not be a choice if the first wasn't the first,
_________________________________
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Allow not destiny to intrude upon Now
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