Thursday, December 31, 2015




THE MEASURE OF TIME


IS THAT WHICH CAN'T BE MEASURED
because it's a dimension.

               Defined as the absence of definition.


                    A fundamentally intellectual Structure

                                    Problematically vague and self-referential

              

               Time is what stops everything from happening at once. 
                 Used to measure the subject as the definition of the subject. 


The fourth dimension
made up of spatialdimensions
measuring duration's of events
in or out of our control.

                                                       
                                                          WE HAVE NO CONTROL
                                                       

                               THERE IS NO CONTROL

We tumble through space
on a fragile planet
surrounded by forces
that allow us to inhabit
our planet, 
on a whim
we are here
and on a whim 
we will be gone.



 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------        DO NOT KID YOURSELF ---------------------- -----------------------------------------

                                        WE REALLY DO NOT MATTER

LIKE ALL SENSATION     WE WILL BE GONE       IN A HEARTBEAT


Tic Toc Tic Toc
the sand passes through
the hourglass
like hours, days----
years
through our lives;


                                                         And doors down a hallway


            of the measure of time







Wednesday, December 30, 2015

                                FLESH OF MY FLESH

                                         So much pain                                         

                                          Everything is rage 
                                          Right or wrong.
                                          Good/bad. 
                                          Feelings
                                          feeding the fire
                                          
                                          Release the hurt.
                                          Release the hate
                                          Free the internal prisoner.

                                      ====Free yourself                                       

                        

You deserve more.


           Seek the truth for yourself.
                It is no longer an option.

                                                    BE RELENTLESS IN YOUR PURSUIT!

You owe it to yourself, my love.


love                You know it was never our choice

Everything is shadow, but you.







 

                                          



                                





  


Monday, December 21, 2015

                          

Hope

          Most dream of a kingdom somewhere...                                    Where an almighty Being exists                                 

watching over us.
His violent and lawless race.
                                                    We pray to him to fix us
                                               each day begging for a sweet morsel
                                               of hope toward salvation.

We hunger
we shiver
we mourn

                                                we feel alone. Forsaken.

We grasp at the straws of PEACE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS!

               A concept which can never be fully realized.

We turn toward our spiritual leaders
our political leaders
those that speak with
confident airs.
Those that pretend
to pretend
to see a plan, a road map
to redemption.
                                     IT IS ALL ILLUSION.
Allusion.
We are  all guilty
of degrees of 
moral deprivation 
and suffer a vague 
longing 
for the restorer.

                                    



 but alas, it is only from within
                                                 that we can change.
The kingdom is in us.


           Courage and love-
           We are not alone..
                                                         


Sunday, December 13, 2015

                               Among us within us

Forged in the fires of Hell


IT will not repent.
ITS wraiths are among us.
The wicked have made a mess 
in their wake.

Fear.
We all fear the terror
among us, within us.


WE ARE ALL DOOMED
WE ARE OUR WORST FEAR.

terror, terrorist 
intense, sharp, overmastering fear

In our homes, on our jobs
in our malls, in our lives

We learn to live
We live in fear

On the TV, in the newspapers
It shouts at us- to us.

To Hide
in terror.

Terrible news, terrible times
to live. 
You can't hide
it will find you
hiding within.

Alien hiding threat dark abstract fantasy HD Wallpaper
The monster is among us, 
within us.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015


Same old shoes

Her attention to the TV would not 
and could not be diverted by any movement in the room
leading him to ask as he loaded peas onto the knife: 
"if I die first, would you please tuck me into my casket?

He felt a surging rage for life, if he could only get her attention.
He wanted to take her by the hand-
yank her out of her TV induced tedium.
He was so weary.


She was lying. She was dreaming.
Her dreams were of divorce and death.
She once said her childhood was
a quagmire of trauma.

Now her heart was merciless.

She wraps herself in mirage.

Made of clouds, a stream of hope
sense of purpose
reasons to live
refusing to acknowledge life's finality.

So he changes the subject.
for he is her lover,
and swore to indulge her;
a soldier full of strange oaths.
He sighs like an old furnace...

We are all mortal, absorbed in the painful reality
of eternal life, eternal youth;
the elaborate, deliberate system 
of words and customs used to disguise death.

                            We are the loved ones cared for by the bereaved                                       despite all beliefs, all attempts of evasion
death survives.











Monday, November 30, 2015



WHY POLYMAN? 



He is one of those insatiable robots humans.     

It's the same old story;   
                                           The protagonist plagued by  a overactive libretto mind,
                                            searching for himself at the bottom of every bottle river. 
                                                   
                                                Growing up a victim of society; physically, mentally 
                                                 abused plagued by extreme feelings of inadequacy 
                                                 causing intense anger and pain.  Using sex, booze and                                                                        rock & roll 
                                                 as an outlet.                                                                    
                                                                 and in the end...just gone to pot

Potcorn
Some call him a burnout, mentally bankrupt, brain-dead
or just the recipient of bad brains.

They harbor the most unflagging supposition that 
he is definitely an entity.


but he is just a product
of his environment.

So. Why Poly?  Ah, the question of our times...


Is he human,? Is he a robot? What kind of product is he?

Have the drugs worked? Has the mania subsided?
Has the depression lifted?    

Questions I'm sure we'd all like answered someday.


The fact is that he has strayed further than most lost sheep.

Sure there are the naysayers, the skeptics that are clamoring

he is a fake...a charlatan. And that's not saying much- Sure he is-

but he is lovable cute and kind. Even a little ahead of his time.

Clearly misguided- but what the hell!
























                                                         

                                                    

Friday, November 20, 2015

OK I GET IT!

You don't like what I've created.

What do you prefer I do?
Post nice little flower or landscape scenes
with quirky little captions? 

I won't can't. Please understand...PLEASE!
                         
                             @#$%^&*()@#$%^&*()

Oh Poly don't get so worked up...they just don't understand you.                                       You are old an enigma TO THEM.

                                   

You are something akin the thin man
but you are harmless
like rain.

There is so much love in you

Still they fear you.
Why can't they just pay homage aggrandize accept you? Why?

PLEASE DON'T BE PISSED HURT ANGRY.

YOU ARE THE CARING FORCE.
THEY KNOW THIS IS MORE THAN JUST A CUT 
AND PASTE JOB.

Deeper than mere esthetic procedures would have it.


...but admit it rooter- you are needy and eager for acceptance.
Yes. I am.




Monday, November 16, 2015


The business of the day

is war
                                     (Laurie Lipton, Collateral Damage)

A solution to the liquidity crises... 

A great way to thin out the herd...


We are the herd- The thundering herd. Haven't you heard?      
Time to report to you local draft board.                The war is on!

Oh Poly...Don't be absurd!        They don't do that anymore. Do they?
                                                           Will they?


                          Laurie Lipton, Death of the Maiden)

But who will protect the children?
Who will pacify?


We will be too busy fighting the evil...And there is evil lurking                                                                                 around every corner

and death hides under a sheet
against Abraham's bosom.



     Lord! Please do not forsake us in our hour of need.
Deliver us from evil...



Remember, we are the good ones. 
We are on the right side.
In the light.


                                              (Laurie Lipton,  delusion dwellers)


We will pray

and ask for absolution.

Pass the ammunition.



...and save us all.









.

Thursday, November 12, 2015


Making oneself scarce


There is nothing left to do

      
I am sorry you can't accept it understand.
I am out of my element mind. It is a closed one. One that is lost; a lost cause.

and I can't begin to help myself.


You see- everything is built on sand.
                           Pure and simple. We have lost sight on what is important.                         EACH AND EVERYONE OF US.


                                         We are Alone.                                                                                           It is a matter of course. ..  

                                                                      I... I am lumbered
 afloat on a raft of my own design.

GRASPING ONTO LUNACY. A marked man.
 Not of this world.
Not for this world.
An alien in a no-mans world.


Losing touch.  

Out of touch. Out of control.

It is a toss-up if we will ever get where
we need to be.

I know I am not there.