Bend Like Fish 



Bend the beat 

Bend the beat 

Bend the beat 

That pumps the heat 

Bend the beat 

That sounds of weep

Bend it into something sweet

Inhalation 

Feel the sweep 

Radiate from head to feet 

Seeping past the dermis sheet

 Exhalation 

Letting go of toxic pasts 

Foresee no more than minutes past

Exaltation

Coming back 

Send the beat 

Back to your heart 

Coming back into your art. 

Please Don’t Color My Roses Red, Son!

Please don’t color my roses red, Son!
I want to see the truth that you see,
The way I once saw before they told me how to see.
I want you to show me what I once saw,
Before they told me how to color a flower,
With green leaves,
And the two petals splayed like arms
All the same
As them.
Please don’t color my grass green Son!
I want to see the beautiful earth
Reflecting prisms of sunshine
Speckled with glimmering lights from your eyes,
Which are also mine,
Though I can only see what
They’ve taught me to see.
All the same
As them.
Please don’t color my sky blue, Son!
I want to see the heavenly majestic
subtleties of the orgasmic
beyond the 16 count box,
That have yet to know a name,
Before I was tainted by the same institution I placed you in.
All the same
As me.
So please forgive me and color my roses whatever fancy you see
In the honesty of your mind’s eye,
And I promise to remember what I saw before I was mind-washed
if you show me how.
And I’ll remind you along the way,
So that you’ll not forget what it is Before they try to teach you how to color a rose red,
Inbetween the bold black lines.
And we will survive
And be the same
As we always were,
As we always are.
As we are.

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The Beat of Meat

The Beat of Meat

Some kind of harmony flows through the bustle of noise.
It starts with a sound, like ah
and follows a beat.
To chase then choke and try
to change for chance it catches
a rhythm where the
blood charges the hollow tubes
that move it’s way into the
thump thumping BEAT
that BrEAThes
Ah.

New sounds created by dead tissue
brings to life the machines.
Androids fabricating pulsations more rhythmic
than my piece that drums off beat.

Wallowing in the hollow
howl of the electric vibrations of the synthesized heart
the valves womp,
I
want
to
want
to
do what
I want.

The ego questions
what can one want?

The wise reply
what to want
is not to want,
And the beat changes.

Nirvana, Samsara, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

Yet Ego questions still.
Would I not be anything more than one with a synthesized heart beat
producing electronic pulses with each anthropomorphic breath
Without the want?
Does my soul tumble down through the hollow tubes
searching for a place to land and push through the life
that courses through the veins?

Let’s go to the place the other off beat meat go
to the place where I walk with my left
and left again to come again to the place where only those who left came.

And in this off beat way I find my place
by walking in circles.
And each time coming to a new place
Through perpetual change,
I never leave my circle
because there is no need.

Eventually my two left feet will catch up with the right beat
and I will be happy wanting the right to be right
because there is no right
or wrong
or want
and what is will be and will be what it is.
Letting go of any preconceived notions of what that want is,

Walk in circles without seizing
To step away or change direction.
Don’t walk unbent because
one will always chase the momentum
straight off the line
and the prey stays ahead.

While I praying to reach the chase,
Walk in circles and don’t ever stop
Because in that circular chase, the paths constantly change
and chances are that what the hunter chases
will eventually catch the prey
and the steps will come together and become one

Beat.

20120509-020548.jpg

The Beat of Meat

The Beat of Meat

Some kind of harmony flows through the bustle of noise.
It starts with a sound, like ah
and follows a beat.
To chase then choke and try
to change for chance it catches
a rhythm where the
blood charges the hollow tubes
that move it’s way into the
thump thumping BEAT
that BrEAThes
Ah.

New sounds created by dead tissue
brings to life the machines.
Androids fabricating pulsations more rhythmic
than my piece that drums off beat.

Wallowing in the hollow
howl of the electric vibrations of the synthesized heart
the valves womp,
I
want
to
want
to
do what
I want.

The ego questions
what can one want?

The wise reply
what to want
is not to want,
And the beat changes.

Nirvana, Samsara, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

Yet Ego questions still.
Would I not be anything more than one with a synthesized heart beat
producing electronic pulses with each anthropomorphic breath
Without the want?
Does my soul tumble down through the hollow tubes
searching for a place to land and push through the life
that courses through the veins?

Let’s go to the place the other off beat meat go
to the place where I walk with my left
and left again to come again to the place where only those who left came.

And in this off beat way I find my place
by walking in circles.
And each time coming to a new place
Through perpetual change,
I never leave my circle
because there is no need.

Eventually my two left feet will catch up with the right beat
and I will be happy wanting the right to be right
because there is no right
or wrong
or want
and what is will be and will be what it is.
Letting go of any preconceived notions of what that want is,

Walk in circles without seizing
To step away or change direction.
Don’t walk unbent because
one will always chase the momentum
straight off the line
and the prey stays ahead.

While I praying to reach the chase,
Walk in circles and don’t ever stop
Because in that circular chase, the paths constantly change
and chances are that what the hunter chases
will eventually catch the prey
and the steps will come together and become one

Beat.

20120509-020548.jpg