Contemporary Messiah

Perfectly in orbit and permeated with the grace of its own gravity, it welcomes every wave and particle that comes its way without exception, orders them all intricately, symphonically, and so reflects only the beauty and true greatness that the outside already had.

Form

Wide eyes jab my bright flag well into this manure mountain's peak, for what ever grew from a silver platter? A burdensome load is invariably a sack of diamonds. No redwood ever resented its soil.

Distant Tension

The ground shakes a little, and foolishness and wisdom look the same, but that is not because they wear identical masks; it is because you wear the cloak of uncertainty – uncertainty of yourself. Marry your soul and body, and see that it is not whether you choose foolishness or wisdom that is the problem, but that you just need to take off that stupid cloak!

Parasite

Twiggy is your saviour. Your unearned, bony “beauty” is not loved elsewhere, not that you seem to know what love even is. That’s right; gorge on the First World; let the white male’s American English glisten as it dribbles down the sides of your smiling, goofy chin, and smear it like the shitty mud (from the sties of the sows whose pleading squeals of desperation you gladly drown out with Lana De Rivative) that it is over your A-cup breasts of censorship and your librarian's clitoris of privacy, before taking pride in polishing your parrot-coloured regurgitation so that it will look great in your ivory tower. Revel in the filthy pleasure and egotistical obesity that you deny that your meticulously ornamented depravity brings. Only keep and only output that which feeds your bad faith, and snip out all threats. You pose as a delicate parasol, but you’re just a voracious

Before the War

The two were one wiggly, angular marble sculpture that really was immersed in darkness but felt saturated with sunbeam kisses, quite sure that these precious days were numbered.

Health Bomber

Outwardly flowing from the blinding core of this music fountain, liquid crystal fills a growing, intangible sphere, immersing and saturating all the blossoms of form without exception, seeping more quickly into some and more slowly into others.

Incubation

It seeped from its cocoon and whispered inaudibly, exhaling itself into manifestation, like an olden-day wife leading a husband to think of her ideas himself.

Lonely Gregory

He is not dead to us.  To us, he lives on in the company of two other old chaps: our spirituality and realised Oneness; in the company of both the boundless divinity of existence, and our enjoyment of the immersive wisdom that waits for us just past the quintuplets of sensory experience.  The three codgers get along, carrying on, relishing the cool touch of their tired, callused soles on the grey, smooth-worn, bare cement floor; of their stiff and crooked thoracic hunches on the damp, granular, vertical legacy of a passionless stonemason.  Around an absent campfire, the brotherly trio grin and chuckle with introspective, warm gazes that sometimes wander – through the tall, narrow spaces afforded by a militant row of unyielding ferrous solidity – with a patient yet unexpecting hope to see their key-bearer; or, rather, for their key-bearer to see them.  It has been so long.

Pardon?  His name was “Lonesome George”, not “Lonely Gregory”?

Whatever.

Feathered Goals

Eating what’s on my plate with invisible adults usually seems like such a dauntingly big deal.  I only managed half a potato and a few peas today.  There’s so much left over, as usual.  I found lots of things that I hadn’t put on my plate, and I mostly ate those with invisible children instead.  Berry picking seems so much less serious than planned meals do, or I have a detrimental habit of thinking so, at least.  Tomorrow I will remind myself that eating what’s on my plate with invisible adults really isn’t a big deal.  What’s currently on my plate is on my plate for no other reason than because I put it there because it’s what I want.  What a privilege.

“EQ”uilibrium II

The farce of prudence, with its expansive, undulating terrain of copious, minutial, consequence-laden neutron stars, is easily caustically bathed down to the essence of human existence by immediacy.

“EQ”uilibrium I

Adrenalin’s coat of softness obliviously thickened and thinned under the clock’s uncompromising, panoptical gaze, which sternly intended to determine the pace of To Do list abrasion with a zero tolerance of the persistent, sweet call of breezy, luminous, child-like whimsy; of foolish, naïve and deceptively detrimental whimsy; of soul sugar, with all the ephemeral delight for now but with no societal nutrition for the future, with a façade of goodness concealing a heart of decay, and with a necessity to be exterminated.

Winter Solstice

The Taxi’s War on Ethiopia pulled up to give a perfect beaded bracelet to the firm, warm hug before smiling and enjoying Beertnamese with the so very healing overlap of present and future.