tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock

(play theme song from Pink Floyd's "Time")

the unwelcoming moonface on the wall
haunting septre of the swayed fray
Shadow stealers
Stop not the tick tock
of the heart beat
drop dead ungorgeous
gorged on my blood
sanquine time again
noting my beats
noting my benchmarks
noting my blaze of glory or gory or both

each moment duly recorded
tick tock
each minute so quickly diminished
gone in a vacuum of space

if only i could use that dread
tick tock
as energy for a pace maker
making me reel with each
second rocked
debriding me of flesh
ripping off yet more
pieces of heart
making me long for yesterday
when i was so much more
than the decay that soon sets in
with each
tick tock

As a whale who somehow knows
the beach is not always a place
to party late into the night
the beach beckons
as space mets with time
and soon runs out
we all run out sooner or later
although life force can make
chi life a bit longer if you know how
witch doctors know how to make it live
as life is an energy force
captured only for so long
as the beached whale on the beach
knew too well
tick tock
it became too loud
if the whale didnt get scared
he could have delayed the
inevitable
by fooling the body into believing
the
tick tock
wasnt really the melody
just the beat of a unknown player
trying to take centre stage
far too soon

Poor beached whale
struggles with the inevitable
no more
struggles with tick tock
and the clock that mocks our very lives
each day
going by
bye bye
one day

as the sounds from the beach
far into the night
caterwhales whoops and hollers
rather grimy sea urchins
come to take away
as suddenly as life
death swoops in
set in long ago
the body fights with all its got
to keep at bay
the dreaded decay
as rigamourtis sets in
and soon the body lightens
as to dust and lighter than air
the molecules that held
life
followed it out
but flesh goes nowhere
and soul goes before
not waiting for the flesh to catch up
the soul flies into unity once more
being everywhere at once
no separation of space and time
two parts making whole
the beginning from the end
and the being of one
tick tock
not heard
now

jj 06 02 10

Minute by Minute

Sitting here on a swivel chair
that can go anywhere
as I play hulahula and get
cinched
it's a cinch
to get a tiny waist

why lament of the wallowness
of nonbeing
when I am being right here and now
as i write the thing that sits on the top
of my head
streams of consciousness come back to me
searching endlessly for reason and
meaning
in the absurd
why I am not sure
not at all sure

sure i am here and now
as i hear the click clack
of the entensor digits
which frame my brain
hopes to find
a substitute in the gloat
as person who likes
goat soap
not that I sell it though I should
seeing as I am promoting something
I'll never get back in dividends
not even bookends
i thought i was

I think I am
your friend
but you never know
you never ask
those questions lacked
this lack of interest
is more than I can handle
accept an exception
handled exception
for what?

who am I; whom am I
me who points at me whom say
these things which
want to point at reality
at this moment in time
this click clack of need
to find
to make
to get
some sense in all this ridiculousness

Where would I be if I werent here
gloating the goat?
bleating the sheep
honking the goose?
I'd be living large
making more space
giving back in spades
all this rot

Sensual pleasures I know not
as I put behind me
all those things of youth
all those things of fantasies
all those things that wrought
ought not naughty
to make way for superfantastic pleasures
of the mind-flesh
duramater isnt flesh?
it is duramater doo-doo bird
the sexist organ in the body
cocobanana
see what I mean
you were thinking of a banana
again
hungry for the body's need
to make the mind eternal yet
flesh-bound to decaying
principles of Victoria?

That's were he wants to go
to an island again
where no man is suppose to be
an island
yet his fantasy
makes all perfect there
as waves lap
and breezes coax
all energies renewed
reborn in this way
you live for ever
if only for one more day
the island is worth
the experience
which may
imprint on the eternal
if memory banks
can handle soul decay
puritan preachy
life is a peach
with more instore features
hopefully

jj 06 02 10

Image Molds Men

His ceramic body stiffened yet delicate
his features aquiline
his heartfelt sensitive nature
attracted hordes
as kept behind hutch doors
locked safely away
from the needy hoar frost

This inconvenience his only fault
durable strength of resolve
a hard pill to swallow
outstanding in the outback
wanting me more than anyone
paying that price

sold
lots of one
no longer a feast for all
gone like no more
sharing was crossed
lost in his endless eyes
a sad goodbye
never ever ever
gone like time
nevermore neverwas
never could be
an endless possibility
dreams tell of other things
possibilities
awaken the dreamer
to the dream lover
kept in a cubby
holed up in the pantry
hutch my butch
always the way
he's been
never changing
ever
stillife in buffeted orbit
shelved for all time
immobilized fear of missing
something dear
or so it could seem
until one realizes
everything changes
everything moves
all the time
all the same

jj 06 02 10

Turn on the Love Lights

Shallow-hearted Lake of desert
Empty-Shelled cup of endlessness
Bountiless Sea
Never giving up
Formless pearls
Vacant Stairs leading nowhere
Vacant Stares reflecting more space
Mirrors return same
locked in droll from the dolldrums
Deep-set eyes reflect no spark of life
Life became lifelessness
learned helplessness
remote controlled nonpurposefullness
useless as used up
Lifelessness becomes Lifefullness
Life lifts up the light of lightfullness of being

Today seemingly riding
that endlessness of wave
on the dead end of the last extinguished spark
returns returned
negative Gamma Rays from the positive exchangability
alternating time and space in an instant adds up
life keeps flickering
on the end of a flame
dancing protoplasma
right on the edge of eternity life holds on
nothing wholly exhausted
neurons and protons
decide when it is right
to switch the light on or off
again and again
the strobe effect
making me slow down so much more
as the light switching on and off
goes faster
how is this so
this exchange of back and forth
here and there
and nowhere
nowhere is only a figment
a fragment
of something which
some process that
can switch all to opposing forces
by the magnetic interchangeability
of great switcheroo
turn off the lights
turn on the love lights

jj 06 02 10

E-conomy E-tested and E-true

Exactly expecting everything effervescent
enough energy extracts eruditeness
encrusted e-trophy with e-jewels
e-copy?
enough egad
epros emessed epplelets
enjoi
entre nous
entrance yous
e-gas
exact e-change
exchanging e-vows
e-prenup
e-hehe
e-screwed
energy e-task e-masters
e-renewable
enemy enema
ennui
e-bugged
essence
e-sense
extreme
e-team
e-non
enoch
e-nachos
e-mmmmm
e-test
exhausting
e-trip
everywhere ewe e-wanta e-be

One In the Outfield: Ode to JD Salinger

True to the heart
the silent beat
that kept us apart
for years
of believing
we can't be dead
to the true heart
to the true part
to the true art
the beating drums meaning
the way we feel when we do
the emotional reasoning
behind the musical screen
the sonic vibe
the sound of love
the cry of life?

the neglected part of heart
the emptiness within
held captive in dry vessels
on desert lands deserted
dust would be what we were
to become
as shells
whats inside
means more than the outfield places
removed places
as the insides catches
the Catcher in the Rye
Drink now for tomorrow we die

Empty promises that life continues
in some form or other
leads some to believe
it will all come out in the wash
as awash as the shores remove all traces
we've ever been here before
when we are put there
finally put away
all outcast
cast aways from life
never meeting that far shore
as our last breath struggles
to live one more day
life is brief
our souls
last longer

as all struggle to find that place in time
where all meeting rooms converge
The University's Open Gate
Opening the doors
to meaningfulness and all purposefulness
from all purposefulness, meaningfulness
we have not claimed the right
to suggest
we have not a clue
as to why we are here
in the first place

Suddenly, sullenly and sadly said
As hollowmen are mere shadows
dried up bits of fragments without
wholeness to find
of what was once complete
a continuous line of fine
the lodestone of where
the world was to go
and would be known
for ever and some time

Fearful of the facts of our incompleteness
we tried physically covet things
from the universe at large
thought to be secure
in the believe
we can be
let live
let go
free
leaving behind the only
bit of comfort ever known
the truth of the matter
is found in the heart
the felt liner
of the human soul

as the neglected heart
yearns to return
to a time when love
could fill the vacant land
even when cultivated
we are far from where
all comes togehter so nicely
as decay creeps up
under the surface
the face fractures
knowing all is illusion
like a mirror
reflecting our image
a image which we project
from our mind?
from our body
from our soul
as vessels
we keep in sotroe
the fine wine of time
which gave us the code
to how to make last
til we are old
and can let go
as we succumb to the desire of the universe
whick kills us
or makes us
something more

stares from empty shores
moved stores
stairways that lead nowhere
that is where we are
basically
without heart
we come apart
not fufilling destiny
not fufilling our role
in all that is
in all that is to become
for us more than what could
ever know
project heart love today
get back
that feeling tomorrow
now love
it is ok
to feel feelings
to be feelings
to know feelings
are why we are here
as we discern
and listen
and call
the renewed spirit that enters
and keeps us knowledgeable about
what is important and what is not

As the heart kept us real
down to earth
and humble
for dust is what we are
and to dust we shall return
no more
no less
just the heart which is soul now
becomes one with the spirit later
so keep in mind, the heart
that leads to the open sky's destiny
the freedom to be
truly be
who you are

Heart of Love
Comes from above
another plane I think
it can and has kept us on track
the lodestone heart
can weigh us down or
lighten us up
free to float
on the ride of a lifetime
forever is like that
never gives up

The Heart of Love
that crystalline knowledge
the Crysallis Butterfly emerges
as spirit builds the soul
invisible but felt
of the spirit bound
knows no bounds
on the return
to become one

the heart a reflection
a mirror'd pool
all the universe's desires
pulling
pushing
guiding us towards endearment
committed strongly
to the source
love is the only thing that lasts

All of us together
Automatic alighnment
one day
group unity hug
in the otherworldly world of
pure heart
taking us to where
where we could have been
now a real possiblility
the positivity of the true heart

never again
would life
negate
neglect
the most important thing
why we life
it is love
love of life
LOFE
is why we live
now is this not important enough?

The Spirit's end result
Raison d'etre
a reason to be
knowing the beginning
from the end
as it comes around again

Could these shallow graven sockets
beckon us to be?
places of never
crying why did you not place face
is something other than this fate
give us leave of our senses
for a moment
when denial of heart
makes victim
of us all
when the wrongly chosen
knew the chosen had deciphered
knowledge without heart
knowledge with a detached sensor mode
knowledge of itself is death not life
of all that was known
now all lost?
what makes more sense
the spirit of heart and life
or the world thof decay
missing the soul train
that said to late; get in!

could the perfect
dna clone
remove that source
as the tree of knowledge
kept chaste
the chastetree
rivetted with holes now
hardly the once wholeness
of goodness
which was once the heart
before the fall
the first tree
toppled
mans desires to be more than what is here
already
as the waiting game made us impatient
as knowledge sitting there
the blueprint of life
seemed a ruddy trophy
of life's perceived mistakes
being the dna could be booted
made to be more whole
when the tweek came to shove
we lucked out on the heart
as the door slammed behind
now scores of heartlessness
pound the pavement with mortals
these supermen really are doomed
to repeat
life without love
never meant to be
miscreants
ne'er do goods
ne'er be-ers
to raise a glass to all good
more than what we were
when are hearts died
so to did you become
a passing shadow on the wall
lifeless as to what could have
become

jj 04 02 10

Distant Like In The Back Of The Brainbox

the distance which separates us
is like the difference between
white of egg
and egg yolk
one egg two parts
scramble them
somewhat scrambled
wholly scrambled
in part or whole
but consistently
distant
nonetheless

like white cells and red cells
make serum when
spun awhile
or scrambled in somesort
of machine makes
orderly mess
of once was but finds
a new form
but not workable anymore
in the previous model

back to when
i did not want
or wont
or won't
or can't
or Ken
or someother
notme
cant be
what I said
did I do that?

when my constituent part
returned to same
it did take time to
reconstitute like oj
never the smae as the original
how could it be
these and those set on spin
often dont bring the same thing
to the lazy susan

these and those
were scrambled and spun
always more over done
wanting to
never can do
when wishes came true
negative equity
how to put back
the broken vase
once whole
now left in a thousand pieces
of broken heart

nonetheless
achieving a homeostasis unit of wholeness
sameness
dolldrums sound the knell
we werent made to be static
not even for a moment
certainly not years
of never ever happening

that meant that who could never give
nor gave fully that part of which
that whom and whom when removed from the first part
became the second part of the first
and lasted far longer with all that
fragmentation
that figment of imagination
that piece of cut glass
which saved me
from giving too much
away
for free
when really
one needs to eat
don't we?

time to
get away from thoughts of being one
over spun
over spin
over scrambled mass of a mess
who wants to only
break the mold like a smashed piece of
pottery
earthenware
left in partial pieces on the back shelf
plated and acid-etched
where like Prince's old girlfriend
Purple rained on my parade that day
when i gave it away so freely
to the Prince of Pretend
Prince Friday by the Bay
Prince One Day

or any other lady in waiting
returns to the back of the line
waiting by Ancient Oaks
waiting for the tree feller
to cut me down to the wick
the wicked wick
but wicked good
i was licked wicked good
but I got back up again

so I could wait patiently again
until someone should show up
in the shop that looks like a matchstick
make me a match
made before eharmony
or matchmaker arts were all that
so we think beyond the label
beyond the sterotype
beyond the flesh of fools
beyond life's mess
we take in stride all things
as women have done for millenia
and wait for an endless date
with prince charming
charmed I'm sure
not
not really
rarely
So in all this maybe I got caught
in a school for scandal
which portaited silhouettes
for the chopping block
all needs scapegoats
some sacrificial lamb
some servant to freely
give away
something which is not free
to others
who often get paid for the same
service-oriented position
where would we be without
public service
volunteers
and lovers of free
without the sleaze component

maybe mr gig
says play the game song
how it has rung before
without knowing
it didnt work the first time
and it never changes
insanely idiotic to repeat this pattern
when off the record
all is bs

so you accept thing you cannot change
because you do not make exceptions
your prejudiced ways
flew in the face of freedom
flew off the handle
flew far flung away
never landling
but free-floating
miles above my head
whats this mean?

as an outsider
how do you feel
about the human race
is it going to fast to catch up
with the hampster wheel of fortune
funny I thought I belonged to something
somewhat
someone
somehow
like spun and scrambled
it all comes out in the end
when you getting off the train?
have you made yourself whole
when you found that place
where you belong
happy with knowing
i meant nothing
happy with knowing
i did not know
happy with knowing
questions still linger
who's rules were you following
when you closed the latch on the gate
left me sitting on the ground
rocking in fetal form
trying to find
that stem cell
from long ago
to begin all over again
this time
it will all make sense
and no funny mind games
only true no bs
no hidden agenda
no motivating factors
no screw-u campaign
am I really an optimist
a dreamer
and a lud?
wasnt there a time when you questioned why
do i follow others dreams machine paths for me
when I could have had stark reality
kicking me in the rear posterior
smooth operator
like decay makes energy
I stored all this for so long
that maybe take the beginning from the end
and smash them together in the Haldron
all that decay could make hay some day
I am hoping for this too
I dont think yin and yang balance
when one carries all the poop
for others
and like the sin-eater
becomes
the master of foibles
and fretful masters
concerns like a spin or spun or scramble
get of the train
get out of the blender
get free from continual
never-ending
emotional attachments to things
when things keep spinning and churning
and changing and becoming
out front
store front
front and centre
reality lives
while all else held by hands
let go
fly away
swirling round
like a blue budgierigar
when the cage lid is left open
and the contained items
cannot be contained any longer
when things are released
set free
set on stun
set mode of life
can be known?
who's in control?
when all is in spin
spun
and scrambled?
hoping they have more of a hold
a grip
a containment system
to hold in
or let go
all those things
we hold so dear
even the fake tears
as you walked away
the heart should know
when the focus is not contained
when the vessel is left
empty
unfufilled prophesy
destiny altered
light not flowing
in the way it was meant to go
if natural laws
were allowed to be
synthesizing reality
altering reality
playing God
does not do a body or soul good
as the spirity can not flow
through the holes
when the atom is manipulated
to this desperate degre?
you follow the synthesizers
the gods of alter
the gods of never after
because our paths now are lost
where we were to go
when reality was left alone

jj 03 02 2010