He speaks to you with a promise of a tomorrow that can exist... but without a friend...
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
when will the tides turn?
You had enough to eat...
what about shhhhhh...
and, what happened to you, anyways?
what you really want to know is what a dime a dozen does....
celebrate while you can... and you know the diiice.
who would want another summary?
what about shhhhhh...
and, what happened to you, anyways?
what you really want to know is what a dime a dozen does....
celebrate while you can... and you know the diiice.
who would want another summary?
Forsaken Celebration
The time without a dime,
envies the secret soup.
What about celebration?
What about soup?
What about... shhhhh...
A heaven awaits,
duly advantagous... and who knew?
what about pardoning a president?
what about shoes and feet and road?
what about nine dollars?
what about shit on a stick?
what about maybe you wanted another?
Another time, anothe place,
another... friendship bracelet
pardonnez moi, c'est la verite?
envies the secret soup.
What about celebration?
What about soup?
What about... shhhhh...
A heaven awaits,
duly advantagous... and who knew?
what about pardoning a president?
what about shoes and feet and road?
what about nine dollars?
what about shit on a stick?
what about maybe you wanted another?
Another time, anothe place,
another... friendship bracelet
pardonnez moi, c'est la verite?
ate another cookie
Steven Von Brillo eats a naked girl
who was to know the consequences of a tryst?
And what happened?
Cuisinart says, eat a namesake...
Charlotte Chen made a movie
and she works with a sumpt
what will happen when you make a movie out of nothing?
Naked EschrichLantry
and when you are in love
nothing is naked.
and you are a friend of mine,
The End.
the start of a beginning.
who was to know the consequences of a tryst?
And what happened?
Cuisinart says, eat a namesake...
Charlotte Chen made a movie
and she works with a sumpt
what will happen when you make a movie out of nothing?
Naked EschrichLantry
and when you are in love
nothing is naked.
and you are a friend of mine,
The End.
the start of a beginning.
Nurtured, and making a friend
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Ready to find a job?
Le Trise est une quelle dommage de la monde...
Et toujours? Toujours?
You stare at three DVD's delivered to your doorstep.
the smell of butter wafts in,
Love his friendship?
Love hymn?
There is an unopened Pint of cold water waiting to be opening.
Ready to be normale again?
'Have you lost your mind?'
"Yea. Looking to find it again." something like that, you murmur.
'Don't give up'
"I already have." Show me the way.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
It can't be *that* bad...
What can one do for redemption?
WAKE UP.
Le Trise est une quelle dommage de la monde...
Et toujours? Toujours?
You stare at three DVD's delivered to your doorstep.
the smell of butter wafts in,
Love his friendship?
Love hymn?
There is an unopened Pint of cold water waiting to be opening.
Ready to be normale again?
'Have you lost your mind?'
"Yea. Looking to find it again." something like that, you murmur.
'Don't give up'
"I already have." Show me the way.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
It can't be *that* bad...
What can one do for redemption?
WAKE UP.
Monday, May 21, 2007
when you want a *pres*ident
Upside-down and inside-out, you fumble for the shortcut you know exists.
You groggily reach for your beer, though; the metallic blue can chisels you.
"You're slurring already," he asserts, like an observer at an aesthete tent.
"Am I?" you enounciate this insouciantly. You're a ballerina at the Belle Jour.
True to the game, but seconds to the duel.
Without a doubt, a thoroughfare to the eschrichlantry.
No doke, isn't that a nice way to dietcokehead?
And ten million years ensued, of the grandest personality alive.
And you went to a movie
and you went to a friend
and you went to a perkolation of a president
and that was the start of a beautiful lover.
ache.
You groggily reach for your beer, though; the metallic blue can chisels you.
"You're slurring already," he asserts, like an observer at an aesthete tent.
"Am I?" you enounciate this insouciantly. You're a ballerina at the Belle Jour.
True to the game, but seconds to the duel.
Without a doubt, a thoroughfare to the eschrichlantry.
No doke, isn't that a nice way to dietcokehead?
And ten million years ensued, of the grandest personality alive.
And you went to a movie
and you went to a friend
and you went to a perkolation of a president
and that was the start of a beautiful lover.
ache.
and then there were a personal stupid niceness
The car alarm... chirp chirp, went off, and you still have no car.
It must be a nice day out, somewhere, perhaps in San Diego?
It's gray where you are, though.
Rain, rain, rain.
You unlace and lace your shoes again. They're gray as well. You went out to search for new shoes yesterday, but there were none to be found. You didn't count how many you tried on...
You decide to put on your buzz rickston jacket and chisel.
Chisel my fizzle.
What will you dieu when you're not in love with everyone?
You stare at a shortcut key whose function you no longer remember. And now you stare at a painting on the wall. Your former self created it.
"Boys seem to like this one," you say, promising to bake a cookie.
"Well, there's dragons, and it's blue," he graciously sips on you.
"So, I protested against malakia-making today."
"Did you," he used his speculative tone.
It must be a nice day out, somewhere, perhaps in San Diego?
It's gray where you are, though.
Rain, rain, rain.
You unlace and lace your shoes again. They're gray as well. You went out to search for new shoes yesterday, but there were none to be found. You didn't count how many you tried on...
You decide to put on your buzz rickston jacket and chisel.
Chisel my fizzle.
What will you dieu when you're not in love with everyone?
You stare at a shortcut key whose function you no longer remember. And now you stare at a painting on the wall. Your former self created it.
"Boys seem to like this one," you say, promising to bake a cookie.
"Well, there's dragons, and it's blue," he graciously sips on you.
"So, I protested against malakia-making today."
"Did you," he used his speculative tone.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
The time of many is the time of few.
Heliotropic times create the melooponaisia coast of a thousand summers yet unvisitited.
But who was to know the who before, and the afterparty?
Why would one even *care*...?
(And I suffer a 'deja vue' even as I care)
Une forchette? Une forchette dans la table?
Charlotte Chen always said it like it was...
'Praise the Lord, one dollar a day."
Chisel. Pray that it's not time for everyone...
ANd the guilt over came her and she wept like an unbegotten child.
And what about Tomorrow's game?
A 'Godly' life?
An allahesh life?
"Predicate your nouns with a 'nine-dollar-drink'."
Heliotropic times create the melooponaisia coast of a thousand summers yet unvisitited.
But who was to know the who before, and the afterparty?
Why would one even *care*...?
(And I suffer a 'deja vue' even as I care)
Une forchette? Une forchette dans la table?
Charlotte Chen always said it like it was...
'Praise the Lord, one dollar a day."
Chisel. Pray that it's not time for everyone...
ANd the guilt over came her and she wept like an unbegotten child.
And what about Tomorrow's game?
A 'Godly' life?
An allahesh life?
"Predicate your nouns with a 'nine-dollar-drink'."
Peekaboo, I'm here
A distant sound of sirens glide through the air and fall on deaf ears.
"We're late," they'd say.
And I'd be puzzled because
I'd have no idea I'd been on time,
or early -- and all
I could do was observe
the latecomers to the supposed
'party' of realization --
the parties of the future
where the only refreshment
was knowledge
and a time from when before you were in love
with a sssssssssss.
"We're late," they'd say.
And I'd be puzzled because
I'd have no idea I'd been on time,
or early -- and all
I could do was observe
the latecomers to the supposed
'party' of realization --
the parties of the future
where the only refreshment
was knowledge
and a time from when before you were in love
with a sssssssssss.
The Asym
The listening skill of a poor lawsuit
determines the way in which we
pay our Laura
with a nice summer's day breeze
she listens with a time of a friendship
she chisels you out a niiice girl
and wants to be a movie star
determines the way in which we
pay our Laura
with a nice summer's day breeze
she listens with a time of a friendship
she chisels you out a niiice girl
and wants to be a movie star
Chisel my summer's day time
All of us has a family that doesn't work on a time around Dieu
it waits for you to win
it wanders around with a work of monstrosity
one day we shall practice the unseen
one day we will chase our wildest dreams
awesome cosmopolitan, please come clean
you keep telling yourself
you're at chez nous
avez-vous "listen,
don't be an artist, she tells me
you grow up old and bitter
be a curator instead"
maybe i'll grow dreds
filigree tents
and promise is dead.
it waits for you to win
it wanders around with a work of monstrosity
one day we shall practice the unseen
one day we will chase our wildest dreams
awesome cosmopolitan, please come clean
you keep telling yourself
you're at chez nous
avez-vous "listen,
don't be an artist, she tells me
you grow up old and bitter
be a curator instead"
maybe i'll grow dreds
filigree tents
and promise is dead.
Eschrich-Lantry eats a Nine Dollar Drink
Remember that time you convinced me we would be driving around building churches?
perhaps the young girl should sit back and have a drink. [he had moved the bad art back inside. two uncannily ugly sinning sacks of shit that needed to be recessitated] but there just were too many things that had to happen in-between. it was much easier to just go get a drink. there were smoke clouds lingering on horizon, obscuring the tops of the purple haze. there had been a fire, somewhere: bitter words exchanged, a spark from a mislit john perhaps, a birthday candle gone awry?
she had thought, mindful of yesterday's mess, he had mentioned a hole in one of the canvases. in which case those dessicated salvaged pieces of a future dyptic should honestly be discarded. she had thought, mindful of yesterday's sermon, that the painting could somehow be saved.
"Dinner's ready" he had announced, as a car pulled into their driveway. [there wasn't really time to explain] They weren't really in a position to receive company, and this being yesterday's announcement received in today's addled future, he was really out at the market at this very minute gathering ingredients. This made the girl uncomfortable to contemplate... if the Last Supper were only you and your truly adored one, who was to betray who, and surely one of them was to be crucified? She crossed herself. "Smells like exhaust" she had commented. Eleven people could never fit in their tiny room, nor did they even posess a table, and barely even a kitchenette for that matter. Reason with yourself, she took a deep breath and exhaled.She had dreamt a few nights past of running to a rock, where her praise-the-lord was waiting. He was there, shirtless. Instead of doing what she had dreaded had to be the only way out, she slathered on some special sunblock.
Twilight ached softly into night. The blueish smoke from the afternoon had dissipated, and she could see three little birds on the telephone wire perpetrating a crime, unbeknownst to mankind.
perhaps the young girl should sit back and have a drink. [he had moved the bad art back inside. two uncannily ugly sinning sacks of shit that needed to be recessitated] but there just were too many things that had to happen in-between. it was much easier to just go get a drink. there were smoke clouds lingering on horizon, obscuring the tops of the purple haze. there had been a fire, somewhere: bitter words exchanged, a spark from a mislit john perhaps, a birthday candle gone awry?
she had thought, mindful of yesterday's mess, he had mentioned a hole in one of the canvases. in which case those dessicated salvaged pieces of a future dyptic should honestly be discarded. she had thought, mindful of yesterday's sermon, that the painting could somehow be saved.
"Dinner's ready" he had announced, as a car pulled into their driveway. [there wasn't really time to explain] They weren't really in a position to receive company, and this being yesterday's announcement received in today's addled future, he was really out at the market at this very minute gathering ingredients. This made the girl uncomfortable to contemplate... if the Last Supper were only you and your truly adored one, who was to betray who, and surely one of them was to be crucified? She crossed herself. "Smells like exhaust" she had commented. Eleven people could never fit in their tiny room, nor did they even posess a table, and barely even a kitchenette for that matter. Reason with yourself, she took a deep breath and exhaled.She had dreamt a few nights past of running to a rock, where her praise-the-lord was waiting. He was there, shirtless. Instead of doing what she had dreaded had to be the only way out, she slathered on some special sunblock.
Twilight ached softly into night. The blueish smoke from the afternoon had dissipated, and she could see three little birds on the telephone wire perpetrating a crime, unbeknownst to mankind.
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