Monday, October 12, 2015

silent robotics

delicate plastic
tinkering thoughts
constraining mechanism

i’m here touching you
you’re warm,
 as warm as
your homeostasis allows
and as your feeling guides

i turn to your world,
see into your presence
aware of the detail
the silent robotics
from which you emerge

humanoid form
kiss me because
we love each other

two of earth’s creations
self-organized, and
auto-katilized from the
precise contexts of our birth

firmware and mindset
developmental structures
---interacted with our world---
experiences guiding experiences

we love each other
two beings,

you and I

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

completed mindset

points trace to points
lines in my mindset
dotted along my
full connectome,    
completed being

mess of sodium concentrations
structures of myelin
our thick, fatty soul
cabling our thoughts
at thirty clicks per second
pops of now
waves of presence,
conscious perception

flesh intact,
skull, thick braincase,
encapsulate my cerebrospinal,
my extracellular fluid.
my vessels of oxygenation
fuel my electrical being
oscillating to create my
completed mindset
undulating moods of then
influencing now
with wicked indifference
to my present desire.

i am many things,
contexts essential
to my me-ness.
strip away my circumstance
and watch me become a new person:
sometimes dead,
sometimes weary,
and sometimes,
ready.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

writing for themselves

moving on several months later
who writes for themselves anymore
no one calls people crazy anymore
or, that's the filter they have around me
since I'm either
    a) obviously crazy, or
    b) so clearly not crazy it would be silly to accuse
and that filter leads me to conclude
such crazy things like
    a) I'm crazy, or
    b) I'm not crazy, and
either would be crazy to determine
if the opposite were indeed true...
which is, of course, a general property of sanity,
but it's especially true in this context,
this environment, where we're considering
   a) the clarity of thought, or
   b) the soundness of ideology, so
let's just
get down
to business

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

rhinoceros


we’re in this world
it’s hard enough
just being here
our open markets
let people construct
financial devices
wherever they succeed
...without intervention

in some way,
it’s our job
you know
as citizens
to identify
what can
and cannot
be done
in the name
of money.

but it’s
really hard
to tell
someone that
the way they’ve
found to live
cannot be done

because it’s
so HARD
to live
so DIFFICULT
to ascend these stairs
in light of all we’ve known
sparkles in your eye
minds of the unknown
frighten me
that they might
slay the rhinoceros
stab into the dark
carve into our future
because mine gives
so many shits about theirs
and we’re joined
in our
cyberemotional Umwelt
of what actually does
make it in this mess
of today.

I mean like
fuuuhhhck
look behind me
see that statue?
cut stone
meets our presence now
uncrushed
never left
in enemy territory,
hammered down
in outright despair

and now
look before me
to this whole
manifold of possibilities
spaces intertwining
money creates engines
on our futures
and each creature
rises like a phoenix
once the fire strikes
the burning begins
—nay, nay.

remind yourself
it is our responsibility
to influence
and guide
the engines
of tomorrow

Saturday, January 11, 2014

medusa, cry

Let's talk
full headed medusa
small juicy snakes
full girthed
jetting poison
full creativity

found alone again
no face
to stand
opposite
and tangent
full featured
gutted motif
full bias lighting

I'm a fucking
jellyfish
fucking like
spores floating
sperm germinating
smoothed pestel,
met reproducing
tides of an
unswept
unmeditated
mind

clear it sweep
tidings to be
unbalanced I find
myself alone--
    medusa, cry.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

profile

I am the plate that fixes a heavy, black chain which whips and pulls with a dagger on its end, tracing curves through the Husserlian space of all mental states.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

kung-fu magic.

Kung-fu magic

fighting for, at least, something
to hold on to
That's what I know.
I'm about as alive as I can remember,
and for now, I can't seem to remember very much.

It's not that I feel, what, without life
It's more like
The barriers of memory
confine
what and how
I think of myself

For instance:
 there are times that I forget music.
Strange, because
I've been
playing music
longer than I
can remember.
I mean: really.

Some of my first memories are
playing my mother's grand piano,
bought fresh from the admiral's wife,
with higher strings
slightly rusted
from the belly
of a cargo ship,
that drifting Italian,
toward our Chesapeake.
Slammed for drama,
keys pressed like
"the day Abraham Lincoln was shot."
that's what I named it.

Quarter,
 to half,
to competition violins
crying over
a cracked bridge
in the back of a church
for old, bitter Olga.

I learned bass because
I dropped our new,
red, Mexican fender,
strangely bigger
and heavier
to my uncertain
8 year old hands.

my life can be told with music,
yet sometimes I forget.
Not just sometimes.
We're not being fair, though.
It's not really the same thing as forgetting
it's that sometimes, like earlier,
the thoughts we have are
just not including...
and...
it's not included.

Who am I?
What have I done?
Oh, god, what have I done?!
I'm fighting for myself,
against the boundaries of
our totally context sensitive lives
kung-fu magic.