Patrick Fleskes, 28 december 2011
An' now I hope the world shines on,
All bearin' leafy green similes
In-between atmospheric distortion,
Perceivin' distance makes Van Goth blush,
Rosey flesh, undercook'd peace,
With side orders of bliss.
"All the world is green", we'll say,
In passin', tho the word not need utterance,
Meanin' is innate t' life, whom only understands matter,
Is there truth greater than atoms? pure energy?
Oh come now, human entanglements are merely attachments,
Latch off!!! Disconnect!!! We'll be free, we'll be with eyes open'd,
Bhudda's all!!!
Impermanent nature of object reality,
Pain an' pleasure an illusion’d sphere,
All birth'd men an' women all bathe in sight,
Of eyes glassy orb containin' summation of universe,
All spherical bodies an' essences,
A perfect shape for existence!
Somethin' physic's musta dreamt up in beautiful, lustrous sleep,
Sleepin' of sleep, a dream is another orb trapped inside another holy body,
The universe is merely a Matryoshka doll,
An' Russian carpenters must be humor'd saints,
Less desolate than most! Spreadin' their onion skinned philosophy,
So trivially.
Patrick Fleskes, 28 december 2011
I feel in times like these,
Un-ease, the world upside-down facin',
God's glaring naked gaze,
Bourbon soak'd decisions guiding society,
Down light-less tunnels, hushin' us sweetly with passin',
Comments of normality,
“It’s ok, ya still can breathe”,
But this atmosphere’s getting thin breaths in-between,
Prolonged submersion in napalm,
Get this damn earth a gas mask.
Just spent my last two dollars,
Last two dollars,
Gonna built me a cardboard grave t’ rest in,
Requiescat in pace,
As we’ll circle Hitchcook’s silver-screen’d drains,
Remembrance of past goldfish lives.
You an’ me,
At yardstick’s length, imagined laws,
T’ lines that aint never existed,
Even in your wildest, un-natural dreams surreal paint drip,
Wasted motion of decay.
Patrick Fleskes, 28 december 2011
Damp winds exchange in space-time gaps,
Winter'd thoughts, patchwork plans,
Sown in a pathetic, homely beauty,
Rag an' bone.
The apparent outside is gettin' hostile,
Shadows replace physical appearances,
Turnin' sidewalks into extended silhouettes,
Molecules dance slow in clouds.
Sad waltz's.
Stillness wipes the atmosphere clean,
Impartin' sleep, wakefulness,
An extended blur of moments,
Piecing narrative together,
In dull raindrop slur.
Patrick Fleskes, 25 december 2011
Heated pipes shootin’ out shackled rivets,
Madness is mechanical, steam outlet,
Body is a disease hive, germ-dependent,
Can’t dismantle the benefactors,
Piece by piece
The roof collapses,
Leavin’ dogs hissin’ blank apologies,
Whilst dead eyes gleam a darker shade of black,
Death don’t bargain bin shop souls.
How coy, it creeps.
Dismantling us human beings.
Atom bombs sterile.
Clean Hiroshima.
Patrick Fleskes, 25 december 2011
Here the supposed I am again,
Lines in between ledges, falling symbols arrangin’ into comprehension,
Logical plain of thought meetin’ cathartic end in ink drop.
Wisdom, a lyrical sting t’ the mind as it bounces away,
Always wantin’ more,
More…
The mind fest of knowledge
Fat-heavy flesh,
Seriated canine teeth,
Take drunken, percussive stabs,
'Tis never satisfied.
Oh what grace does introspection grant?
All actions can be diffused by their inherent silliness.
I exist… I suppose,
Therefore I’ll pound these damn keys till they work up,
A satiable monologue.
Birth an’ death carry documents of proof,
Why not life?
Patrick Fleskes, 25 december 2011
Mornings tarted mouth sunshine,
Sweet honeyed dripof the ancients,
The soil is now errect, attentiveness t' catch,
Aloof energy,
Conservation of pure life,
Essentially.
The sensation of sight,
Leaves the moon in weary sleep,
Of it collected dust,
And space be a black caverous mircowave,
dust carried off on waves an' radiation.
Particles everywhere!
Invokin' marenatte strings,
The invisiable chemical reactions,
Carry pure spontaneity of choice.
"Are ya a comedy or a tragedy?"
The Doctor asks as his hands slap,
new born flesh.
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