I wonder if my words came out right
if your heard me in the night
feeling for your warmth
would you know it?
well I couldn’t sleep
tripping out in the woods
and laying on rocks
but the sound of you breathing made me breath deeper
and sometimes I’d follow yours
then slow them down to silence
so you can’t hear me anymore
I move away to a more acceptable position
fitting into the hard background
I can’t feel you but
your still there
still somewhere else
like every other girl
some sort of vision
a dream I’m still remembering
and an unmade decision to isolate myself
if I can’t have what’s before me
that’s wanted so badly
then shouldn’t I search inside?
accept life and death and pain
like a Buddhist poet
except I assess what gain can I take standing in the rain alone?
or in some dank dark place where my is soul sitting stoned
trying to make my life a work of art
but I think it is a tragedy
because I see things so black and white
like the ocean and sky
not wrong or right
but a void of ominous entities and omens
a place that I could make well with my poems
sing without worry for pitch
just the thick vibrations underneath us
a thin blanket
my feet bitten and legs leaning nearer
looking down so small
I can’t see your face
but its clearer what I want and its me
that holds back
a hesitation, one moment
or many hours
that I
never realizing the power of a glance
looked around for opportunities
and left them all for chance

ghost train

dull yellow shadows and pale static
ghosts or just peripheral apparitions
illusions due to light and eye movement
or spirits wandering
energy watching, waiting
floating in the corner of my vision
faces in the window
reflections not in the bathroom but flashing past the mirror
all my questions are quiet
as the lies become clearer
no truth revealed just a veil pulled back like a foreskin
oh godless darkness is the night
so lonely forever?
every session of forgotten dreams follow
the hollow thoughts and lust of laying in bed
staring at the after images in the drywall
my fake emotions melt in salty dribbles before sleep
still watching us
always just
a breath around the corner
stalking like the wind hunts distant voices
talking closer to the point
taking a young boy to a
rotting wooden dock in a dark northwestern cove
chimney smoke log cabin fever
memories and visions later
woken
all my senses are dreams half remembered or
dead words never spoken
in this reality, a trip
this love is a state of my mind
at least temporarily mine until rationale finds the time
to end beautiful destructions of fire
with her face through a fence
silhouetted on barbed wire mountains

Nzambi: Hamilton's Pharmacopeia

BOOM!!—IMMUNITY!!!

Wow, France… Why can’t we do that here?!?? (part 1: Inoculation)

a washing song

I wanna see you

without anyone else

around to bother me

without their sad attempts at humor that

smother us in fake laughter

I wanna see her

with all her walls down

the raw naked soul

and body too

wishing I could share the despair with a like

minded friend

someone who smells the rain on air

somebody who hugs trees

and worships clouds too

oh heavenly fern covered ridge

come down vapor gods

open the fridge at 3 am

but don’t let out perception

I wanna love someone who

hates authority and dreams of insurrection

every night

despite my hungering I am still

seeking nothing

my life is comprised of doing laundry

dreaming and smoking

tomorrow is endless

today we’re all clichés

I think its time to put you in the dryer

and drift away again

for another spin

the hours long when you slow down the song to a

transcendental drone

don’t get the dirt in

and I wont let the hurt hit home

dont tell your mommy

till the trees grow back through swimming pools

my neighbor on a ladder

says he’s painting

lives above my garage

he’s always masturbating

audibly

horrifying moaning

torments me and I torture him with loud psychedelic music

and doom metal

haha fucker!

watering the lawn in the middle of the day

hey were trying to smoke this bong

I cant have privacy in my own back yard?

I half hope he falls down on the driveway

hard and down the stairs to the street

that creepy man gone

I would still be oppressed

slightly more free yet depressed about

something

I still got these fuckers that live with me

that yell and bother, harassing and asking my whereabouts

I don’t really care about leaving them here

if its soon

but I got to hurry

the bowls cherry and vision blurry were swerving to the

godlight

when I black out walking to the kitchen

or I’m dreaming in the hallway

in love with sleep

wherever on a mountain mushroom farming

or skating down the street

we travel lightly seeking

ancient cycles

daily knowledge and sacred bondage with her

eternal goddess

climb up into the wilderness with me and ditch

our dead mother-society

look at them down there in the city

we’ll turn the world downside up

till the trees grow back through swimming pools

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Next up is Topanga, CA’s Jeffertitti’s Nile, whose music has been described as a “hypnotic river of sound” that transports the listener to “timeless d

Right is Wrong

Right is Wrong

inside, on top

Photocredit to Jermy, his dslr and the author

dead guys on diamondhead

chiming information over loading
my top exploding
skyward head
like a cork from a champagne bottle
shot by a geyser of blood
slots in their minds dripping timeless goo essence
yes that presence
constant and pure
in that root moment of speed
there is no fear
no question or anticipation
my love is that which leaves me
on the ground
looking at clouds
haha! they float by so carelessly
beautiful passing energy
condensed milk vapor
spilling on the great blue tablecloth blanket
honey colored women
and the brown earth
dark clay men swaying to the drums playing
trance beats in the cool
heat of the night day half moon
to be sun risen orange dreams soon
melt over the glass orb
and absorb the feeling
of fading like blown smoke